HOME AND GARDEN 




Frontispiece. {i>ee page 50.) 



HOME AND GARDEN 



NOTES AND THOUGHTS, PRACTICAL AND 
CRITICAL, OF A WORKER IN BOTH 

BY 

/ 

GERTRUDE JEKYLL 

With 53 Illustrations from Photographs 
by the Author 




LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO^ 

39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON 
NEW YORK AND BOMBAY 
1900 



All rights reserved 



/ 



PREFACE 

The favourable reception of Wood and Garden, pub- 
lished a year ago, has proved that there are many 
who are willing to receive such suggestions as my 
many years of work as a practical amateur have 
enabled me to make. It has further encouraged me 
to put together in the present volume some more 
notes and reflections, for the most part also on garden 
matters, though this time grouped with allied home 
subjects. 

Tbe interest which has been aroused in readers of 
my former book has been very gratifying, and I hope 
that the present one may succeed in inducing others 
to work out for themselves some such results as in 
some cases I have been fortunate enough to obtain. 

In thus again offering my suggestions to the 
public, it is but just to myself to say that, with my 
very limited reserve of strength, it required some 
resolution to face the very real fatigue involved in the 
execution of my task. 

vii 



viii PREFACE 

May I go one step further and say that, while it 
is always pleasant to hear from or to see old friends, 
and indeed all who work hard in their own gardens, 
yet, as a would-be quiet worker, who is by no means 
over-strong, I venture to plead with my kind and 
numerous, though frequently unknown friends, that I 
may be allowed to retain a somewhat larger measure 
of peace and privacy. 

G. J. 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER I 

PAGES 

HOW THE HOUSE WAS BUILT 1-21 

CHAPTER II 

A WOOD RAMBLE IN APRIL ..... 22-31 

CHAPTER III 

A GARDEN OF WALL-PLOWERS .... 32-38 

CHAPTER IV 

TREES AND LANES 39-51 

CHAPTER y 

WILD HONEYSUCKLE 52-58 

CHAPTER VI 

BRIER ROSES 59-66 



MIDSUMMER 



CHAPTER VII 

ix 



67-76 



X ^ CONTENTS 

CHAPTER VIII 

PAGES 

K0SE3 AND LILIES 77-87 

CHAPTER IX 
LARGE ROCK-GARDENS 88-95 

CHAPTER X 

SMALL ROCK-GARDENS 96-107 

CHAPTER XI 
THE WORKSHOP 108-121 

CHAPTER XII 
THE KINSHIP OF COMMON TOOLS . . . 122-127 

CHAPTER XIII 
CUT FLOWERS 128-148 

CHAPTER XIV 
CONSERVATORIES 149-163 

CHAPTER XV 
THE MAKING OF POT-POURRI .... 164-178 

CHAPTER XVI 
PLANTS FOR POOR SOILS 179-198 



CONTENTS xi 

CHAPTER XVII 

GARDENING FOR SHORT TENANCIES . . . 199-214 

CHAPTER XYIII 

SOME NAMES OF PLANTS 215-223 

CHAPTER XIX 

WILD FERNS 224-235 

CHAPTER XX 

THE KITCHEN GARDEN 236-254 

CHAPTER XXI 

THE HOME PUSSIES 255-270 

CHAPTER XXII 

THINGS WORTH DOING 271-288 

CHAPTER XXIII 

LIFE IN THE HUT 289-296 

INDEX 297-301 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



Frontispiece. {Seepage 50) face title 

The House from the Copse .... face 'page 4 

Porch and Tub-Hydrangeas .... „ 7 

The Stairs „ 8 

The Oak Gallery „ 10 

North Side of the House „ 14 

Pewter on Dining-room Sideboard ... „ 14 

The Peony Garden „ 35 

Young Ash and Young Beech in Crumbling 

Bank „ 39 

Oak Roots „ 40 

Beech Butt and Root „ 42 

Root of Scotch Fir „ 43 

Mary Huntingford „ 45 

Entrance down to Farmhouse from Road . „ 46 

Paved Cottage Entrance-path .... „ 47 

James Furlonger „ 48 

A Woodland Lane „ 49 

xiii 



xiv LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

One of the Old Bridges .... face 'page 51 

Beech Stem distorted by Honeysuckle . . „ 54 

The Lane of the Ghost-Cart .... „ 56 

Brier Eoses „ 60 

Mullein {Verhascum phlomoides). {Seepage 195) . „ 68 

The Cenotaph of Sigismunda .... „ 71 

St. Bruno's Lily and London Pride ... „ 75 

Lilies and Cannas in the Tank-garden . . „ 77 

Guelder Rose and Garden Door ... „ 79 

The Cape Lily (Crinum — Garden varieties) . „ 80 

The Two Kinds of White Lily .... „ 82 

A Jar of China Roses „ 84 

Autumn Roses „ 86 

Cuckoo-flower and Sandwort in the Rock- 
garden „ 103 

Some Products of the "Workshop . . . „ 120 

The Rose-leaved Bramble „ 130 

White Lilac „ 140 

Eryngium and White Everlasting Pea . , „ 146 

Midsummer — Chinese Peonies .... „ 148 

Midwinter— Polypody and Ivy .... „ 148 

Rose Leaves for Pot-pourri .... „ 166 

The Pot-pourri Harvest : Cutting Lavender . „ 166 

The Cistus Ground ,,181 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xv 

Path through Birch and Cistus . . . face page 188 

MuNSTEAD Glasses. {See ipage IAS) ... „ 194 
Lyme Grass (Elymus) and Lavender -Cotton 

(Santolina) „ 194 

The Silver Thistle (Eryngium giganteum). (See 

2Mge 194) „ 196 

Gourds „ 206 

Birch and Bracken in Wild "Woodland . . „ 232 

PiNKIEBOY „ 257 

The Invitations „ 267 

Tabby— "Cat in a Window's Game" ... „ 269 

Entrance to the Hut „ 294 



HOME AND GARDEN 



CHAPTER I 

HOW THE HOUSE WAS BUILT 

Does it often happen to people who have been in a 
new house only a year and a half, to feel as if they had 
never lived anywhere else ? How it may be with 
others I know not, but my own little new-built house 
is so restful, so satisfying, so kindly sympathetic, that 
so it seems to me. 

In some ways it is not exactly a now house, 
although no building ever before stood upon its site. 
But I had been thinking about it for so many years, 
and the main block of it and the whole sentiment of 
it were so familiar to my mind's eye, that when it 
came to be a reality I felt as if I had already been 
living in it a good long time. And then, from the 
way it is built it does not stare with newness ; it is 
not new in any way that is disquieting to the eye ; it 
is neither raw nor callow. On the contrary, it almost 
gives the impression of a comfortable maturity of 
something like a couple of hundred years. And yet 

A 



2 



HOME AND GARDEN 



there is nothing sham -old about it ; it is not trumped- 
up with any specious or fashionable devices of spurious 
antiquity ; there is no pretending to be anything that 
it is not — no affectation whatever. 

But it is designed and built in the thorough and 
honest spirit of the good work of old days, and the 
body of it, so fashioned and reared, has, as it were, 
taken to itself the soul of a more ancient dwelling- 
place. The house is not in any way a copy of any 
old building, though it embodies the general charac- 
teristics of the older structures of its own district. 

Everything about it is strong and serviceable, and 
looks and feels as if it would wear and endure for ever. 
All the lesser permanent fittings are so well thought 
out and so thoroughly made that there is hardly any- 
thing that can possibly get out of order ; the house is 
therefore free from the petty worry and dislocation of 
comfort so commonly caused by the weakness or 
inefficiency of its lesser parts, and from the frequent 
disturbance occasioned by workmen coming to do 
repairs. 

Internal fittings that are constantly seen and 
handled, such as window- fastenings, hinges, bolts and 
door-latches, are specially designed and specially made, 
so that they are in perfect proportion, for size, weight, 
and .strength, to the wood and iron-work to which 
they are related. There are no random choosings from 
the ironmonger's pattern-book ; no clashing of styles, 
no meretricious ornamentation, no impudence of cast- 



HOW THE HOUSE WAS BUILT 3 



iron substitute for honest hand- work, no moral sloth- 
fulness in the providing of all these lesser finishings. 
It takes more time, more trouble ; it may even take a 
good deal of time and trouble, but then it is just right, 
and to see and know that it is right is a daily reward 
and a never-ending source of satisfaction. 

Some heavy oak timber-work forms a structural 
part of the inner main framing of the house. Posts, 
beams, braces, as well as doors and their frames, 
window-frames and mullions, stairs and some floors, 
are of good English oak, grown in the neighbourhood. 
I suppose a great London builder could not produce 
such work. He does not go into the woods and buy 
the standing timber, and season it slowly in a roomy 
yard for so many years, and then go round with the 
architect's drawing and choose the piece that exactly 
suits the purpose. The old country builder, when he 
has to get out a cambered beam or a curved brace, 
goes round his yard and looks out the log that grew 
in the actual shape, and taking off two outer slabs by 
handwork in the sawpit, chops it roughly to shape 
with his side-axe and works it to the finished face 
with the adze, so that the completed work shall for 
ever bear the evidence of his skill in the use of these 
grand old tools, and show a treatment absolutely in 
sympathy with the nature and quality of the material. 

Though the work of the London builder is more 
technically perfect, it has none of the vigorous vitality 
and individual interest of that of the old countryman, 



4 



HOME AND GARDEN 



and all ways of working according to local tradition 
are necessarily lost. The Londoner has to take the 
great baulks of foreign timber as they come from the 
merchants' stacks, and shape them with the pitiless 
steam-saw ; the timber then passes through several 
hands, each working a different machine at every stage 
of its conversion. The very atmosphere of the crowded 
London yard, with its fussy puffings of steam, its 
rumble, roar, and scream of machinery, the many sub- 
divisions of processes of manipulation, all seem calcu- 
lated to destroy any sentiment of life and character in 
the thing made. And what have we in the end ? A 
piece of work that, though it has the merit of mechani- 
cal precision, has lost all human interest ; it follows 
the architect's drawing with absolute fidelity, but is 
lifeless and inert and totally unsympathetic. 

I am far from wishing to disparage accuracy or 
technical perfection of workmanship, but in the case 
of structural timber that forms part of a house of the 
large cottage class such as mine, and in a district 
that still possesses the precious heritage of a traditional 
way of using and working it, such mechanical perfec- 
tion is obviously out of place. 

Then there is the actual living interest of knowing 
where the trees one's house is built of really grew. 
The three great beams, ten inches square, that stretch 
across the ceiling of the sitting-room, and do other 
work besides, and bear up a good part of the bedroom 
space above (they are twenty-eight feet long), were 




The House from the Copse. 



HOW THE HOUSE WAS BUILT 5 



growing fifteen years ago a mile and a half away, on 
the outer edge of a fir wood just above a hazel-fringed 
hollow lane, whose steep sandy sides, here and there 
level enough to bear a patch of vegetation, grew tall 
Bracken and great Foxgloves, and the finest wild Can- 
terbury Bells I ever saw. At the top of the western 
bank, their bases hidden in cool beds of tall Fern in 
summer, and clothed in its half-fallen warmth of rusty 
comfort in winter, and m spring-time standing on 
their carpet of blue wild Hyacinth, were these tall oaks ; 
one or two of their fellows still remain. Often driving 
up the lane from early childhood I used to see these 
great grey trees, in twilight looking almost ghostly 
against the darkly -mysterious background of the 
sombre firs. And I remember always thinking how 
straight and tall they looked, for these sandy hills do 
not readily grow such great oaks as are found in the 
clay weald a few miles to the south and at the foot of 
our warm-soiled hills. But I am glad to know that 
my beams are these same old friends, and that the 
pleasure that I had in watching them green and grow- 
ing is not destroyed but only changed as I see them 
stretching above me as grand beams of solid English 
oak. 

The memory of a curious incident of many years 
ago that I am quite unable to account for, and never 
can forget, belongs to this same lane ; only a few yards 
further down and within sight of the lowest of the 
oaks. 



6 



HOME AND GARDEN 



I was riding a big and rather nervous horse down 
the lane, which, though not exactly steep, has a fairly 
sharp fall. There had been a sudden and heavy 
storm of summer rain, and I had just ridden out from 
the shelter of a thickly-leafed oak, when I heard a 
two-wheeled country cart driving rather fast down the 
narrow lane behind me. As it came near, I judged 
by the sound that it was a heavy tax- cart such as a 
farmer would drive to market with two or three pigs 
behind him under a strong pig-net. I could hear the 
chink and rattle of the harness and of the loose ends 
of the tail-board chains. As the man driving was just 
about to pass me, he slapped the reins down on the 
horse's back, as a rough driver does who has no whip, 
and I noticed the sodden sound of the wet leather ; at 
the same moment he gave a " dchk " to urge the horse. 
I was in the act of drawing my horse close to the near 
side of the lane, when, hearing the man, he made an 
impatient sort of bucking jump, followed by a moderate 
kick. The passing cart was so close that I thought 
his heels must touch the wheel, but they did not, and 
again I drew him as near as I could to the bank. As 
the cart did not pass I looked round, and as I turned 
the sound ceased, and nothing was to be seen but some 
hundred yards or so of the empty space of the hollow 
roadway. 

My house is approached by a footpath from a 
quiet, shady lane, entering by a close-paled hand-gate. 
There is no driving road to the front door. I like the 



HOW THE HOUSE WAS BUILT 7 



approach to a house to be as quiet and modest as 
possible, and in this case I wanted it to tell its own 
story as the way in to a small dwelling standing in 
wooded ground. The path runs to an arch in the 
eastern wall of the house, leading into a kind of long 
porch, or rather a covered projection of lean-to shape. 
This serves as a dry approach to the main door, and 
also as a comfortable full-stop to the southern face of 
the house, returning forward square with that face. 
Its lower western side shows fiat arches of heavy 
timber work which are tied and braced across to the 
higher eastern wall by more of the same. Any one 
entering looks through to the garden picture of lawn 
and trees and low broad steps, and dwarf dry wall 
crowned with the hedge of Scotch Briers. As the 
house is on ground that falls gently to the north, the 
lawn on this, the southern side, is on a higher level ; 
and standing in front of the house and looking to- 
wards the porch, the illustration shows how it looks 
from the garden side in late summer when the tubs of 
Hydrangea are in full flower. The main door leads 
into a roomy entrance and then to a short passage, 
passing the small dining-room on the left, to the 
sitting-room. 

The sitting-room is low and fairly large, measuring 
twenty-seven by twenty- one feet, and eight feet from 
floor to ceiling. A long low range of window lights it 
from the south, and in the afternoon a flood of western 
light streams in down the stairs from another long 



8 



HOME AND GARDEN 



window on the middle landing. The stairs come straight 
into the room, and with the wide, hooded, stone-built 
fireplace take up the greater part of its western end. 
The windows, after the manner of the best old buildings 
of the country, are set with their oak mullions flush with 
the outer face of the wall, so that as the wall is of a 
good thickness, every window has a broad oak window- 
board, eighteen inches wide. The walls are twenty- 
two inches thick, and as the local stone is pervious to 
water for some years after being freshly used, they are 
built hollow, with an outer stone wall nearly fifteen 
inches thick, then a three-inch air-space, and an inner 
wall of brick firmly bound to the outer with iron ties. 

The steps of the stairs are low and broad. There 
are four short flights and three square landings ; the 
first landing giving access to a small book-room, which 
has no door, but is entered by a curtained arch. It 
is a pleasant little room ; a room good to work and 
read in. It always makes me think of St. Jerome's 
Study in the National Gallery ; not that it has the 
least likeness in appearance, but because it has that 
precious feeling of repose that disposes the mind to 
study. The south wall is mostly window, the west 
wall is all books ; northward is the entrance arch and 
an oak bureau, and on the fourth side is another book- 
case and the fireplace. 

The stairs feel pleasantly firm and solid ; the main 
posts at the angles go right down and rest on brick 
masonry. The longest measures thirteen feet, and it 




The Stairs. 



HOW THE HOUSE WAS BUILT 9 



was a puzzle to the builder how to turn the finial out 
of the solid, for no such work in this house is stuck on, 
and no lathe that he had could turn so great a length ; 
but as there is no problem in woodwork that a clever 
carpenter cannot solve, he just had it worked out by 
hand. 

The oak gallery to which the stairs lead is sixty 
feet long and ten feet wide. One feels some hesitation 
about praising one's own possessions, but it is a part of 
the house that gives me so much pleasure, and it 
meets with so much approval from those Avhose 
knowledge and taste I most respect, that I venture to 
describe it in terms of admu*ation. Thanks to my 
good architect, who conceived the place in exactly such 
a form as I had desired, but could not have described, 
and to the fine old carpenter who worked to his 
drawings in an entirely sympathetic manner, I may 
say that it is a good example of hoAv English oak 
should be used in an honest building, whose only pre- 
tension is to be of sound work done with the right 
intention, of material used according to the capability 
of its nature and the purpose intended, with due regard 
to beauty of proportion and simplicity of effect. And 
because the work has been planned and executed in 
this spirit, this gallery, and indeed the whole house, 
has that quality — the most valuable to my thinking 
that a house or any part of it can possess — of con- 
ducing to repose and serenity of mind. In some 
mysterious way it is imbued with an expression of 



10 HOME AND GARDEN 



cheerful, kindly welcome, of restfulness to mind and 
body, of abounding satisfaction to eye and brain. 

It is just these desirable qualities that are most 
rarely to be found in a modern building, and that one 
so much appreciates in those examples that remain to us 
of the domestic architecture of our Tudor and Jacobean 
reigns, and still more frequently in foreign lands in 
the monastic buildings. Indeed, one of the wishes I 
expressed to the architect was that I should like a 
little of the feeling of a convent, and, how I know not, 
unless it be by virtue of solid structure and honest 
simplicity, he has certainly given it me. 

The gallery is amply lighted from the left by a 
long range of north window looking to the garden 
court. On the right are deep cupboards with panelled 
oak doors, only broken by panelled recesses giviug 
access to the doors of three bedrooms. One space of 
eight feet is a shallower cupboard with a glazed front 
of sliding sashes, in which are arranged all the little 
treasures of some kind of prettiness or of personal 
interest, such as are almost unconsciously gathered 
together by a person of an accumulative proclivity. 
These are arranged with an attempt at pictorial effect, 
and the place serves the double purpose of having all 
my small miscellaneous goods easily within sight, and 
also of assuring me that they are safe from the 
destructive gambols of kittens and from the well- 
meant but occasionally fatal flicks of the household 
duster. 



HOW THE HOUSE WAS BUILT 11 



Here are memories of many lands and of many 
persons : of countries that I shall never see again, 
for my travelling days are over ; of kindly little gifts 
from friends who are no longer among the living. 
Some of the small objects are of absolutely no intrinsic 
value but of a loveliness that is beyond all price, such 
as beautiful shells and feathers. Then there are tiny 
ancient tear-bottles, both brilliant and dainty in irides- 
cent colouring of their decaying surface-flakes ; a little 
silver Buddha; delicate pieces of Venetian glass; bronze 
coins green with age ; old Church embroideries of gold 
and colours upon white silk now faded and discoloured ; 
ostrich eggs of ivory white and emu eggs of dim dusty 
green ; little objects innumerable — eight foot by four 
of them as a carpenter would say — a life's history in 
a hieroglyphic writing that is legible to one person 
only, but that to all comers presents a somewhat pretty 
show. 

The deep panelled cupboards, too, are full of trea- 
sures, arranged in those handy dark-green boxes with 
loose lids such as are used for ribbons and delicate 
fabrics in drapers' shops. Here are pieces of old 
Venetian and Florentine stuffs ; wall-hangings, Church 
vestments, brocades, damasks, embroideries, fringes, 
braids, and great silk tassels. There are boxes of 
Algerian and other embroidery silks, of crewels, of 
chenilles, of coloured embroidery cottons ; a box of old 
English patchwork and another of the bright pretty 
peasant handkerchiefs of France and Italy. From 



12 



HOME AND GARDEN 



time to time many of the materials come into use, 
while the rest are for the pleasure of turning over 
myself and for showing to friends of like tastes. Then 
there are linen wrappers enclosing piles of silk, linen, 
and cotton fabrics, and about it all is the comfortable 
feeling that everything in the big cupboards is kept 
clean and safe and easily accessible. 

One shorter length of cupboard holds a collection 
of objects mostly local, many of them now out of use. 
Here are a number of the brass " face-pieces " of 
waggon harness, the pride of the smart carter, and 
still in use ; and the now obsolete ear-bells, dangling 
two on each side from a strap that passed over the 
horses' heads just behind the ears and buckled into 
the cheeks of the head-stall. The middle of the strap 
was fm-ther decorated by a brush-shaped three-tiered 
plume of coloured horse-hair rising from a smart brass 
socket. And there are the bright rosettes of coloured 
worsted braid also for dressing up the waggon-team 
on market days. Among the varied contents of this 
cupboard are trophies of brass snuffers and brass spoons 
and pepper-pots, wooden harvest bottles, tinder boxes 
and some of the earliest flat sulphur matches, and 
cocoa-nuts carved by sailors ; a shepherd's crook of 
fine old pattern, and many forms of the old rush-light 
holders. 

The space of the gallery is not encumbered with 
furniture, but has one long oak table of a fine simple 
type, oak linen chests (locally " hutches and a chair 



HOW THE HOUSE WAS BUILT 13 

or two. The large table is where needlework is cut out 
and arranged. I chose a room for my own bedroom 
near the further end of the gallery in order that I 
might the oftener enjoy a walk down its length, and 
every morning as I come out of my room, hungry for 
breakfast and ready for the day's work, I feel thankful 
that my home has on its upper floor so roomy and 
pleasant a highway. 

The building of the house was done in the happiest 
way possible, a perfect understanding existing between 
the architect, the builder, and the proprietor. Such 
a concourse of salutary conditions is, I fear, rare in 
house-building. It often happens that conflicting 
interests are at war with one another ; indeed it seems 
to be usually supposed that the builder and the archi- 
tect are in some degree antagonistic. Hence it arises 
that in buildings of any importance the architect has 
to post an expensive clerk of the works on the job, to 
see that the builder does not cheat the proprietor. 

But where all three are reasonable and honest 
folk, at one in their desire of doing a piece of good 
work, this extra source of expense is not needed, and 
the whole thing, instead of being a cause of waste and 
worry and anxiety during its making, and possibly a 
disappointment when completed, is like an interesting 
game of serious and absorbing interest, every move 
having some distinct bearing on the one to follow ; 
every operation being performed in its due sequence to 
the gradual building up of the completed structure. 



14 



HOME AND GARDEN 



From beginning to end there was no contract. 
The usual specifications were made out and were priced 
by a London firm, and as the total came out not 
greatly in excess of what the house might cost, the 
builder was set to work, with the understandino^ that 
certain reductions should be made where we could as 
the work went on, and it was arranged that he should 
send in all accounts for payment at the end of every 
month, and that he should receive in addition a sum 
of ten per cent, on the whole amount of the cost. 

The architect has a thorough knowledge of the 
local ways of using the sandstone that grows in our 
hills, and that for many centuries has been the building 
material of the district, and of all the lesser incidental 
methods of adapting means to ends that mark the 
well-defined way of building of the country, so that 
what he builds seems to grow naturally out of the 
ground. I always think it a pity to use in any one 
place the distinctive methods of another. Every part 
of the country has its own traditional ways, and if 
these have in the course of many centuries become 
" crystallised " into any particular form Ave may be 
sure that there is some good reason for it, and it 
follows that the attempt to use the ways and methods 
of some distant place is sure to give an impression as 
of something uncomfortably exotic, of geographical 
confusion, of the perhaps right thing in the wrong 
place. 

For I hold as a convincing canon in architecture 




Pewtf.r ox Dining-Room Sidkhoari). 



HOW THE HOUSE WAS BUILT 15 



that every building should look like what it is. How 
well that fine old architect George Dance understood 
this when he designed the prison of Newgate ! On 
the other hand, does not every educated person feel 
the shock of incongruity when a building presents a 
huge front as of a Greek temple, and when, instead of 
the leisurely advance of classically-robed worshipper 
and of flower-garlanded procession of white-robed 
priest and sacrificial beast, such as he has some right 
to expect, he has to put up with a stream of hurr3dng 
four-wheelers with piles of railway-passengers' luggage 
and bicycles chained to their tops ! 

O ! for a little simple truth and honesty in build- 
ing, as in all else that is present to the eye and touches 
daily life ! 

Many of my friends, knowing that I dabble in 
construction and various handicrafts, have asked 
whether I did not design my house myself. To which 
question, though I know it is meant to be kind and 
flattering, I have to give an emphatically negative 
answer. An amateur who has some constructive per- 
ceptions may plan and build a house after a fashion ; 
and to him and his it may be, and quite rightly and 
honestly, a source of supreme satisfaction. But it will 
always lack the qualities that belong to the higher 
knowledge, and to the firm grasp of the wider expres- 
sion. There will be bungles and awkward places, and 
above all a want of reposeful simplicity both in and 
out. If an addition is made it will look like a shame- 



16 



HOME AND GARDEN 



faced patch boggled on to a garment ; a patch that is 
always conscious of its intrusive presence. AVhereas an 
addition planned by a good architect will be like one 
of those noble patches such as Avere worked by some 
Italian genius in needlework two hundred years ago. 
The garment needed a patch, and a patch v/as put in, 
but instead of a clumsy attempt being made to conceal 
it, it was glorified and ornamented and turned into 
some graceful arabesque of leaf and flower and tendril, 
enriched by cunning needlework of thread or cord or 
delicate golden purfling, so that what began by being 
an unsightly rent, gi'ew under the skilful fingers, 
quickened by the ready wit of the fertile brain, into a 
thing of enduring beauty and delight. 

When it came to the actual planning of the house 
I was to live in — I had made one false start a year 
or two before — I agreed with the architect how and 
where the house should stand, and more or less how 
the rooms should lie together. And I said that I 
wanted a small house Avith plenty of room in it — there 
aie seven bedrooms in all — and that I disliked small 
narrow passages, and Avould have nothing poky or 
screwy or ill -lighted. 

So he di'ew a plan, and Ave soon came to an under- 
standing, first about the main block and then about 
the details. Every portion was carefully talked over, 
and I feel bound to confess that in most cases out of 
the fcAV in which I put pressure on him to waive his 
judgment in favour of my wishes, I should have done 



HOW THE HOUSE WAS BUILT 17 

better to have left matters alone. My greatest error in 
this way was in altering the placing of the casements 
(hinged lights that open). In every long range of 
lights he had marked as a casement not the end lights 
but the ones next to them. I thought the end lights 
would be more easily accessible, especially in bedi-ooms, 
on account of the rather unusually large and long 
dressing-tables, that I like ; and the casements were 
placed accordingly. Afterwards I found this arrange- 
ment so inconvenient, on account of rain wetting cur- 
tains, and of the flying in and out of the thin linen 
ones that act as blinds, that within a year I had them 
altered so as to be as originally designed. 

N'aturally in the course of our discussions we had 
many an amicable fight, but I can only remember one 
when one might say that any " fur flew." I do not 
now remember the details of the point in question, 
only that it was about something that would have 
added a good bit to the expense for the sake of 
external appearance ; and I wound up my objections 
by saying with some warmth : " My house is to be 
built for me to live in and to love ; it is not to be 
built as an exposition of architectonic inutility ! " I 
am not in the habit of using long words, and as these 
poured forth like a rushing torrent under the pressm'e 
of fear of overdoing the cost, I learnt, from the archi- 
tect's crushed and somewhat frightened demeanour, 
that long words certainly have their use, if only as 
engines of warfare of the nature of the battering-ram. 

B 



18 



HOME AND GARDEN 



How I enjoyed seeing the whole operation of the 
building from its very beginning ! I could watch 
any clever workman for hours. Even the shovelling 
and shaping of ground is pleasant to see, but when 
it comes to a craftsman of long experience using 
the tool that seems to have become a part of him- 
self, the attraction is so great that I can hardly tear 
myself away. What a treat it was to see the fore- 
man building a bit of wall ! He was the head man 
on the job, a bricklayer by trade, but apparently the 
master of all tools. How good it was to see him at 
work, to observe the absolute precision, the perfect 
command of the tool and material ; to see the ease of 
it, the smiling face, the rapid, almost dancing move- 
ments, the exuberant though wholly unaffected mani- 
festation of ready activity; the little graceful orna- 
ments of action in half-unconscious flourishes of the 
trowel, delicate fiorituri of consummate dexterity, 
and all looking so pleasantly easy that the movements 
seemed less like those of a man plying his trade than 
such as one sees in a strong young creature frisking 
for very pleasure of glad life. 

I was living in a tiny cottage on the same ground, 
only eighty yards away from the work. How well I got 
to know all the sounds ! The chop and rush of the 
trowel taking up its load of mortar from the board, 
the dull slither as the moist mass was laid as a bed for 
the next brick in the course ; the ringing music of the 
soft-tempered blade cutting a well-burnt brick, the 



HOW THE HOUSE WAS BUILT 19 



muter tap of its shoulder settling it into its place, 
aided by the down-bearing pressure of the finger-tips 
of the left hand ; the sliding scrape of the tool taking 
up the overmuch mortar that squeezed out of the 
joint, and the neat slapping of it into the cross-joint. 
The sharp double tap on the mortar board, a signal 
that more stuff was wanted. Then at the mortar- 
mixing place the fat popping of the slaking lime 
throwing off its clouds of steam ; the working of the 
mixing tool in the white sea enclosed by banks of sand 
— a pleasant sound, strangely like the flopping of a 
small boat on short harbour wavelets ; the rhythmical 
sound of the shovel in the sloppy mortar as it is 
turned over and over to incorporate the lime and sand. 

The sounds of the carpenter's work are equally 
familiar though less musical. The noises of saw and 
hammer are not pleasant in themselves, though satis- 
factory evidences that work is in progress, and a saw 
being filed is no less than a torture to any tender 
ear that may be near. On the other hand, I like to 
hear the small melodious scream of the well-sharpened 
plane as it shoots along the edge of the board and 
gives out its long, fragrant ribbon of a shaving, and 
the chop of the axe, and the blows of the mallet on 
the chisel that is making the mortises ; for the sound 
of these blows, though of a dull quality, yet has a 
muffled music that is pleasant to hear. And another 
sound that is not displeasing is the beating of the 
cow-hair that is mixed with the wall plaster, the 



20 



HOME AND GARDEN 



better to make it hold together ; for exactly the same 
reason that in Egypt of old they made bricks with straw. 
The hair, when shaken out of the bags, is in thick 
lumps. A man sits before a board, and with two 
lissome sticks beats the hair till it separates. The 
air is thick with dust and particles of short hair; 
and probably the work, though light, is none of the 
pleasantest ; but it always looks, particularly if two are 
at work near together, as if they were playing some 
amusing game. 

One picks up many varied scraps of useful know- 
ledge on a building; indeed the whole thing is a 
capital lesson for any reasonably observant person. 
As one example out of many, one learns why bricks 
should be used wet. A soft cutting-brick has a dry, 
sandy surface ; mortar laid on this scarcely takes hold, 
it is inclined to fall oft", carrying on its face the loose 
red sand that prevented it from adhering, just as the 
hod deposits its load of mortar surfaced with the dry 
sand that the labourer has sprinkled over it in order 
that the wet stuff should not cling to the wooden tool. 
But when a brick is wet, the moisture of the mortar 
at once fraternises with that of the brick, and the 
mortar is actually sucked into the pores. Dozens of 
such examples might be noted in illustration of the 
natures of building materials. And then one learns 
curious local terms, and from the older men many 
odds and ends of lore and wisdom, and one hears 
familiar words twisted in workmen's mouths into 



HOW THE HOUSE WAS BUILT 21 

unusual forms ; thus I learn that " tempory " is the 
antithesis of " permerent." I also learn by inference 
that the maker of one useful material is deficient in 
the sense of smell, for when I came on a newly- 
imloaded stack of large rolls of something with an 
overpowering odour of creosote, and asked : " What 
is this very nasty-smelling stuff ? " I was told it was 
the Patent Inodorous Felt ! 

So I would linger about the works, not exactly 
idle because always learning something new in the 
way of cause and effect, till the church clock of the 
distant town struck twelve and the foreman looked at 
his watch. Then came his cheery Yeo-ho, and at the 
welcome call the sounds on the building ceased and 
the men knocked off for dinner and the midday rest. 



CHAPTER II 



A WOOD RAMBLE IN APRIL 

It is a windy day in early April, and I take my camp- 
stool and wander into the wood, where one is always 
fairly in shelter. Beyond the fir wood is a bit of wild 
forest-like land. The trees are mostly Oaks, but here 
and there a Scotch Fir seems to have straggled away 
from the mass of its fellows, and looks all the hand- 
somer for its isolation among leafless trees of quite 
another character. The season is backward; it still 
seems like the middle of March, and the ground cover- 
ing of dead leaves has the bleached look that one only 
sees during March and the early weeks of a late April. 
It is difficult to believe that the floor of the wood will, 
a month hence, be covered with a carpet whose ground 
is the greenery of tender grass and fern-like wild 
Parsley, and whose pattern is the bloom of Primrose 
and wild Hyacinth. As yet the only break in the leafy 
carpet is made by some handsome tufts of the wild 
Arum, just now at their best, and by some wide-spread- 
ing sheets of Dog's Mercury, one of the earliest of the 
wild plants. It is not exactly beautiful, except in 
some cases as sheets of bright green colour, but it is 
welcome as a forerunner of the cheerful spring flowers. 

22 



A WOOD RAMBLE IN APRIL 23 



It is a poisonous plant, and one must beware of getting 
it into a garden, so insidious and persistentty invading 
is its running root. 

Where the undergrowth is not cut down at the 
usual few years' interval, every now and then one 
comes upon an old Hazel with a trunk six inches 
thick, or perhaps with a sheaf of five or six thick 
stems. It is only when one sees it like this that 
one recognises that it is quite one of the most 
graceful of small trees. The stems have a way of 
spreading outward and arching from the very base, 
forming a nearly true segment of a shallow circle. 
The bark becomes rough after three years' growth, 
but before that age, except for a thin scurf of 
papery brown flakes, relics of an earlier skin, it is 
smooth and half polished, the colour varying from 
grey-green to a cool umber, with bands and clouds 
of a silvery quality. 

It is difficult to believe that we are well into 
April, the season is so backward, with frosty nights 
and winds that appear to blow equally cold from 
all quarters. To-day the wind comes from the south, 
though it feels more like north-east. How cold it 
must be in northern France ! Coming back through 
the fir wood, the path is on the whole well sheltered, 
yet the wind reaches me in thin thready little 
chilly draughts, as if arrows of cold air were being 
shot from among the trees. The wind-blown firs 
in the mass have that pleasant sound that always 



24 



HOME AND GAKDEN 



reminds me of a distant sea washing upon a shingly- 
beach. 

The sun is away on my front and left, and the 
sharp shadows of the trees are thrown diagonally 
across the path, where the sunlight comes through a 
half-open place. Farther along, for some fifty yards 
or more, the path is in shade, with still more distant 
stretches of stem-barred glints of sunny space. Here 
the fir-trunks tell dark against the mist-coloured back- 
ground. It is not mist, for the day is quite clear, but 
I am on high ground, and the distance is of the tops 
of firs where the hillside falls steeply away to the 
north. Where the sun catches the edges of the nearer 
trunks it lights them in a sharp line, leaving the rest 
warmly dark ; but where the trees stand in shade the 
trunks are of a cool grey that is almost blue, borrow- 
ing their colour, through the opening of the track be- 
hind me, from the hard blue cloudless sky. The trunks 
seen quite against the sunlight look a pale greenish- 
brown, lighter than the shadow they cast, and some- 
what warmed by the sunlit dead bracken at their 
feet. When I move onward into the shade the blue 
look on the stems is gone, and I only see their true 
colour of warm purplish-grey, clouded Avith paler grey 
lichen. I wish I had with me some young student of 
painting, the varying colourings of the trees in this 
wood in to-day's light offer such valuable lessons in 
training the eye to see the colour of objects as it 
appears to be ; the untrained eye only sees colour as 



A WOOD RAMBLE IN APRIL 25 

it is locally. I suppose any one who has never gone 
through this kind of training could scarcely believe 
the difference it makes in the degree of enjoyment of 
all that is most worthy of admiration m our beautiful 
world. But it enables one, even in a greater degree 
than the other perceptions of form and proportion 
that the artist must acquire or cultivate, to see pic- 
tures for oneself, not merely to see objects. And the 
pictures so seized by the eye and brain are the best 
pictures of all, for they are those of the great Artist, 
revealed by Him direct to the seeing eye and the 
receiving heart. 

It is not so much that people are unobservant, but 
that from the want of the necessary training they 
cannot see or receive direct from nature what is seen 
by the artist, and the only natural pictures that strike 
them are those that present some unusual strength or 
mass of positive colour, such as a brilHant sunset, or a 
group of trees in yellow glory of autumn colouring, 
or a field of poppies, or an orchard bearing its load 
of bloom. To these untramed eyes the much more 
numerous and delicate of Nature's pictorial moods or 
incidents can only be enjoyed or understood when 
presented in the form of a painted picture by the 
artist who understands Nature's speech and can act 
as her interpreter. 

Now I come to the fringe of a plantation of 
Spruce Fir some thirty years old. llie trees meet 
overhead above the narrow cart-track, and looking in 



26 



HOME AND GARDEN 



from outside in the late afternoon light it might be 
the mouth of a black-dark tunnel, so deep and heavy 
is the gruesome gloom. And indeed it is very dark, 
and in its depths strangely silent. It is like a place 
of the dead, and as if the birds and small wood beasts 
were forbidden to enter, for none are to be seen or 
heard. But about the middle of this sombre wood 
there is a slight clearing ; a little more light comes 
from above, and I see by the side of the track on 
the hitherto unbroken carpet of dull dead-brown, 
some patches and even sheets of a vivid green, 
and quantities of delicate white bloom. And the 
sight of this sudden picture of daintiest loveliness, 
of a value all the greater for its gloomy environ- 
ment, fills the heart with lively joy and abounding 
thankfulness. 

It is the Wood- Sorrel, tenderest and loveliest of 
wood plants. The white flower in the mass has a 
slight lilac tinge ; when I look close t see that this 
comes from a fine veining of reddish-purple colour 
on the white ground. White seems a vaguely- 
indefinite word when applied to the colouring of 
flowers ; in the case of this tender little blossom the 
white is not very white, but about as white as the 
lightest part of a pearl. The downy stalk is flesh- 
coloured and half-transparent, and the delicately- 
formed calyx is painted with faint tints of dull green 
edged with transparent greenish bufi", and is based 



A WOOD RAMBLE IN APRIL 27 

and tipped with a reddish-purple that recalls the 
veining of the petals. Each of these has a touch of 
clear yellow on its inner base that sets off the 
bunch of tiny whitish stamens. 

The brilliant yellow-green leaf is a trefoil of three 
broad little hearts, each joined at its point to the 
upright stalk by a tiny stalklet just long enough to 
keep the leaf- divisions well apart. In the young 
foliage the leaflets are pressed down to the stalk and 
folded together. The mature ones also fold and 
sleep at night. Each little heart does not fold upon 
itself, but each half is closely pressed against the 
half of its neighbour, so that the whole looks like a 
blunt thi'ee-winged arrow-head or bolt-head. 

A few minutes more and I am out of the sombre 
Spruces, and again in the more open woodland, full 
of sonc,^ of bird and movement of free air. The wood- 
path, following a nearly level contour of the steep 
hillside, dips across a sudden transverse gully. It 
is an old dead road or pack-horse track, one of 
many that scar the hillsides and indent the heathery 
wastes. A forgotten road of a day long since gone 
by ; probably never made and certainly never mended. 
Centuries ago slightly hollowed, first by foot of man 
and laden or ridden beast, then grown more wide and 
deep by side-crumbling of sandy earth and sweeping 
wash of sudden storm-flood. In the steep descent of 
this old dead lane one can read the whole history of 
its making, down to the rich valley-bottom where the 



28 



HOME AND GARDEN 



washed-down soil lies nearly level in a wide flattened 
drift, whose record is written in the richer growth of 
tree and bush and the ranker depth of luscious grass 
and weed. 

I sit at the edge of the hillside path, and look 
down the old lane. A steep sandy bank rises to the 
left. Above it is a wood of Oak and Hazel enriched 
with groups of mighty Hollies. To the right, also 
steeply rising, is rather open woodland. In the hollow 
is a thick mass of dead leaves, and below them a rich 
leaf-mould, for the old lane holds not only the leaves 
that fall into it, but the many more that are blown in 
from all sides. Twenty yards ahead and nearly in the 
bottom is a large Beech, showing by its evident age 
that for a hundred and fifty years, and who knows how 
long before, the road has been out of use. Still nearer 
and a little to the side is a great Holly. Its smooth 
pale grey stem fifteen inches thick rises unbranched for 
twelve feet; then the lower branches sweep boldly 
down and the outer boughs meet the steep banks. 
The great Beech-tree arches overhead, and the old 
hollow way goes steeply down till its further progress 
is hidden by a bend and by the projection of the 
right-hand bank. Dog's Mercury here grows thickly, 
and the sunlight from beyond makes it show as a 
mass of brilliant green colour. 

As I sit quite quiet I hear in the wood high up on 
my left some small animal hunting among the dead 
leaves. By the smallness of the sound it should be a 



A WOOD RAMBLE IN APRIL 29 



field-mouse ; the movement is not heavy enough for 
a weasel, still less for a stoat ; it is the sound of an 
animal of less than three ounces weight. Now I move 
on to a place where some underwood has lately been 
cut, and then to where the ground is naturally open, 
a half-acre of wild turf on the sunny hillside, of the 
fine grasses native to the sandy soil, with occasional 
tufts of the pretty Wood-Sage that will flower in the 
full summer. The little Cinquefoil, with a flower like 
a small wild Strawberry, is in bloom, and Dog- Violets 
and Stitchwort, and here and there is a fine clump of 
Burdock, whose grandly-formed leaves with their boldly- 
waved edges I always think worthy of a place in a 
garden. 

Just above this open space is a low hedgerow of 
Hazels, with still rising wooded ground above. What 
a pretty and pleasant place that wise rabbit has chosen 
for his " bury," as the country folk call it ; at the foot 
of the low sandy bank, and where it is kept quite dry 
by the roots of the old Hazels. Just above is a carpet 
of wild Hyacinth backed by Hollies, and a little garden 
of the same comes right up to his front-door, where a 
tuft or two is partly buried by some of his more recent 
works of excavation. Here also are more Burdocks. 
Their leaves have almost the grandeur of those of the 
Gourd tribe, but without their luscious weakness, and 
the vigour of the Rhubarb without its coarseness. I 
never cease to admire their grand wave of edge and 
the strength of line in the " drawing " from root to 



30 HOME AND GARDEN 



leaf-point. It is a plant that for leaf effect in the 
early year should be in every garden ; it would hold 
its place as worthily as Veratruin or Artichoke. Later 
in the year there are other plants of bold leaf-beauty, 
but in April and May they are so few that none should 
be overlooked. 

In several woods in my neighbourhood there are 
old groups of common Laurel that have never been 
cut or pruned. They all look to be about the same 
age, and must have been planted early in the century, 
for they were already old trees when I was a child. 
There are large groups of them on four adjoining 
properties, in one wood or coppice of each. It looks 
as if four neighbouring squires had agreed to try a 
good patch of them as experimental undergrowth. I 
have a rather strong dishke to the clipped Laurel of 
the ordinary shrubbery, but growing at will in the 
woods they are handsome small trees with a good deal 
of pictorial value. Their smooth grey stems are some- 
thing like elephants' trunks or some kind of grey ser- 
pent, the more so that they curl about and seem almost 
to withe, often turning downward and lying along the 
ground, and then rising and twisting again. A shrub 
showing such a habit of growth sends one's mind 
wandering away to some of the old Greek myths that 
dealt with the transformation of man or beast into 
some form of plant or tree life ; and though the shrub 
of this family we know best is a native of the 



A WOOD RAMBLE IN APRIL 31 

Caucasus, and the Russian and Turkish provinces 
adjoining, I think I have heard of it in Greece, Avhero 
such thoughts may have arisen in the minds of those 
pastoral poets of ancient days, whose wanderings 
would have led them among the snake-like trunks of 
the wild-grown mountain Laurels. 



CHAPTER III 



A GARDEN OF WALL-FLOWERS 

I AM never tired of watching and observing how plants 
will manage not only to exist but even to thrive in 
difficult circumstances. For this sort of observation 
my very poor sandy soil affords me only too many 
opportunities. Now, on a rather cold afternoon in 
April, I go to a sheltered part of the garden, and 
almost at random place my seat opposite a sloping 
bank thinly covered with Periwinkles. The bank is 
the northern flank of a mound of sand, thinly surfaced 
when it was made with some poor earth from a hedge- 
bank that was being removed. This place was 
purposely chosen for the Periwinkles, in order to 
check their growth and restrain them from running 
together into a tight mat of runners, as they do so 
quickly if they are planted in better soil. This 
poverty of soil and the summer dryness of their place 
keeps them very much at home, and they make stout, 
well-flowered tufts, with only a few weak runners. There 
is something among them on the ground looking like 
bright crimson flower-buds, about an inch long. I 
look nearer and see that they are acorns, fallen last 
autumn from a tree that overhangs this end of the 

32 



A GARDEN OF WALL-FLOWERS 35 



bank. The acorns have thrown off their outer shells, 
and the inner skin, of a pale greenish-yellow colour 
when first uncased, has turned, first to pale pink and 
then to a strong crimson. The first root has been 
thrown out and has found its way firmly into the 
ground, though the acorn still lies upon the surface. 

The Periwinkles are the common Vinca major and 
its variegated variety ; Vinca minor, the kind most fre- 
quent in gardens, blue, white, and often parti- coloured ; 
the half-double one with dull red-purple flowers ; the 
double blue, and a wild white one from North Italy, 
with an abundance of small flowers, and a close, tufty 
habit of growth that give it a distinct appearance, 
and make it a very desirable garden plant. The 
double blue is with me much more shy in growth 
than the others ; I suspect it would be happier on a 
stronger soil. I have heard rumours of a double white, 
which ought to be a pretty plant, and have even had 
it promised, but it has never reached my garden. One 
of this family that I much admire and grow in rather 
large quantity is Vinca acutiflora fi'om Southern Europe. 
Unlike its more northern relatives it hkes a sunny 
bank, so I have it on the south side of the mound 
near the clumps of Acanthus, where in late autunm it 
displays to the best advantage its handsome polished 
foliage and largish blooms of tenderest, palest blue. 

Between and among the lesser Periwinkles on the 
northern bank are spaces where neighbouring Wall- 
flowers have shed their seed, and seedlings have sprung 

c 



34 HOME AND GARDEN 



up. Some of these, evidently on the poorest ground, 
have branched all round without throwing up a stem, 
and look like stiff green rosettes pressed close to the 
earth. Others, a little more well-to-do, have stout 
stocky stems and dense heads of short, almost horny, 
dark-green foliage, with promise of compact but abund- 
ant bloom. Like the inhabitants of some half-barren 
place who have never been in touch with abundance 
or ease of life or any sort of luxury, they are all the 
more sturdy and thrifty and self-reliant, and I would 
venture to affirm that their lives will be as long again 
as those of any sister plants from the same seedpod that 
have enjoyed more careful nurture and a more abundant 
dietary. No planted-out Wall-flower can ever compare, 
in my light soil, with one sown where it is to remain ; 
it always retains the planted-out look to the end of its 
days, and never has the tree-like sturdiness about the 
lower portions of its half-woody stem that one notices 
about the one sown and grown in its place. Moreover, 
from many years' observation, I notice that such plants 
only, show the many variations in habit that one comes 
to recognise as a kind of individual or personal char- 
acteristic, so that the plant acquires a much greater 
and almost human kind of interest. I have one such 
charming seedling that gives me great pleasure. The 
flower is of a full, clear, orange colour, more deeply 
tinged to the outer margins of the petals with faint 
thin lines of rich mahogany, that increase in width of 
line and depth of colour as they reach the petal's outer 



A GARDEN OF WALL-FLOWERS 35 



edge, till, joining together, the whole edge is of this 
strong, rich colour. The back of the petal is entirely 
of this deep tint, and though the flower is of some 
substance, I always think the richness of colouring of 
the back has something to do with the strong quality 
of the deep yellow of the face. The calyx, which forms 
the covering of the unopened bud, is of a full purple- 
brown. The leaves are of a dark dull green, tinged 
with brown-bronze, much like the colour of the brown 
water-cress. The habit of the plant is close and 
stocky, but does not look dwarfed. 

If I had plenty of suitable spaces and could spend 
more on my garden I would have special regions for 
many a good plant. As it is, I have to content myself 
with special gardens for Primroses and for Pieonies 
and for Michaelmas Daisies. And indeed I am truly 
thankful to be able to have these; but we garden- 
lovers are greedy folk, and always want to have more 
and more and more ! I want to have a Rose-garden, 
and a Tulip-garden, and a Carnation-garden, and a 
Columbine-garden, and a Fern-garden, and several 
other kinds of special garden, but if I were able, the 
first I should make would be a Wall-flower garden. 

It should be contrived either in connection with 
some old walls, or, failing these, with some walls or 
wall-like structures built on purpose. These walls 
would shock a builder, but would delight a good 
gardener, for they would present just those conditions 
most esteemed by wall-loving plants, of crumbling 



36 



HOME AND GARDEN 



masonry built of half-formed or half-rotting stone, and 
of loose joints made to receive rather than to repel 
every drop of welcome rain. Wall-flowers are lime- 
loving plants, so the stones would be set in a loose bed 
of pounded mortar-rubbish, and there would be sloping 
banks, half wall half bank. I should, of course, take 
care that the lines of the garden should be in suitable 
relation to other near portions, a matter that could 
only be determined on the precise spot that might be 
available. 

But for the planting, or rather the sowing of the 
main spaces, there would be Uttle difficulty. I should 
first sow a packet of a good strain of blood-red single 
Wall-flower, spreading it over a large stretch of the 
space. Then a packet of a good yellow, either the 
Belvoir or the Bedfont, then the purple, and then one of 
the newer pale ones that have flowers of a colour between 
ivory-white and pale bufl'-yellow. I would keep the 
sowings in separate but informal drifts, each kind 
having its share, though not an equal share, of wall 
and bank and level. Some spaces nearest the eye 
should be filled with the small spreading Alpine Wall- 
flowers and their hybrids, but these are best secured 
from cuttings. The only ones I know of this class are 
Cheiranthus alpinus, whose colour is a beautiful clear 
lemon-yellow ; CheirantMis mutahilis, purple, changing 
to orange ; and Cheiranthus Marshalli, the deep orange- 
coloured hybrid of C. cdjpinus. Seed of C. alpinus 
ought to be obtainable, though I have not tried to 



A GARDEN OF WALL-FLOWERS 37 



keep it. C. Marshalli never forms seed, and I have not 
seen it on C. mutahilis. A few other plants would be 
admitted to the Wall-flower garden, such as yellow 
Alyssum on sunny banks and Tiarella in cool or half- 
shady places, and in the wall -joints I would have in 
fair quantity the beautiful Corydalis capnoides, most 
delicate and lovely of the Fumitories. Leading to the 
Wall-flower garden I should like to have a way between 
narrow rock borders or dry walls. These should be 
planted with Aubrietias, varieties of A. grceca, of full 
and light purple colour, double Cuckoo-flower in the 
two shades of colour, and a good quantity of the grey 
foliage and tender white bloom of Cerastium tomen- 
iosum, so common in gardens and yet so seldom well 
used ; I would also have, but more sparingly, the all- 
pervading Arahis albida. 

These plants, with the exception of the Cuckoo- 
flower, are among those most often found in gardens, 
but it is very rarely that they are used thoughtfully 
or intelligently, or in such a way as to produce the 
simple pictorial effect to which they so readily lend 
themselves. This planting of white and purple colour- 
ing I would back with plants or shrubs of dark foliage, 
and the path should be so directed into the Wall-flower 
garden, by passing through a turn or a tunnelled arch 
of Yew or some other dusky growth, that the one is 
not seen from the other ; but so that the eye, attuned 
to the cold, fresh colouring of the white and purple, 
should be in the very best state to receive and enjoy 



38 HOME AND GARDEN 



the sumptuous splendour of the region beyond. I 
am not sure that the return journey would not present 
the more brilliant picture of the two, for I have often 
observed in passing from warm colouring to cold, that 
the eye receives a kind of delightful shock of surprise 
that colour can be so strong and so pure and so alto- 
gether satisfying. And in these ways one gets to 
know how to use colour to the best garden effects. It 
is a kind of optical gastronomy; this preparation 
and presentation of food for the eye in arrangements 
that are both wholesome and agreeable, and in which 
each course is so designed that it is the best possible 
preparation for the one next to come. 

I think I would also allow some bold patches of 
tall Tulips in the Wall-flower garden ; orange and 
yellow and brown and purple, for one distinct departiu-e 
from the form and habit of the main occupants of the 
garden would give value to both. 



CHAPTER IV 

TKEES AND LANES 

Within half a mile of my home is a deep hollow lane 
whose steep sides are barred with strata of ragged 
sandstone, with layers of yellow sand between. In 
summer it is shaded by the wide-spreading branches 
of the trees, mostly Beeches, that grow above. Some 
of these come forward to the actual edge of the scarp, 
and as there is no stone quite near the surface, the 
gradual crumbling away of the sandy earth where they 
first took root, threatens to leave the trees without 
support. Now the Beech is evidently a tree with a 
strong instinct of self-preservation and no small degree 
of constructive ability, for I see that wherever this has 
happened the tree has thrown down a great stem-like 
root, a reversed counterpart of the stem above the 
ground level, that not only carries the weight with abso- 
lute security, but so well satisfies the eye of the critical 
observer that the tree looks as if it had support and 
to spare, and bears itself gracefully upon its admirably 
designed pillar. The root-stem seems to become a 
piece of true trunk, and is covered with exactly the 
same kind of smooth bark as above ground. Several 
fair-sized Beeches with trunks about from two and a 



40 HOME AND GARDEN 



half to three feet in diameter, have done the same 
thing, and in each case the sense of balance and ade- 
quate support could not have been better expressed. 

One small Beech with a trunk only as yet eight 
inches in diameter has one large backward root firmly 
clutching the bank, but it now depends on one of these 
under-stems where two main roots have joined and 
grown together, and are actually thicker than the 
trunk above. The little tree seems to have a perfect 
feeling for balance and construction, and its gracefully 
poised trunk shoots upward with a staimch conscious- 
ness of structural stability. 

Some eight yards farther down the lane one sees 
how an Oak gets over the same diJBQculty. Here there 
is no main supporting column, but it has thrown down 
a number of roots — about twenty of from three to six 
inches diameter, and many lesser ones. They fork 
and lace and intertwine in a kind of complicated web 
— where they touch they become welded together, 
greatly to the increase of strength and bearing power. 
The actual weight of the tree stands over space, so 
much has the sandy bank crumbled away under the 
butt. The whole arrangement is evidently effectual, 
for there the tree stands, a well-gro^vn Oak with a two- 
foot- thick trunk, and by no means young, for I can 
remember it looking nearly the same all my life. But 
the method of the Oak is much less satisfactory and 
convincing to the eye and also less graceful than that 
of the Beech, just as the tree itself has a more rugged 




Oak Roots. 



TREES AND LANES 



41 



character. For the Beech always seems to me to be 
the true aristocrat among trees, and in all circum- 
stances to bear himself with the graceful dignity that 
befits his high estate. 

The Oak in question has not troubled himself about 
appearances. His tangle of supporting root answers 
his purpose and he cares no more about it, but he lays 
himself open to criticism in that his method does not 
give one's eye the same comforting conviction of sound 
construction. I always think that if some weight 
suddenly settled in the branches, such as a flight of 
rooks, or a wood-nymph or two, that the supporting 
mass of root would " sit down " a little like a spring 
cushion when sat upon, and that it Avould rise again 
when released from the weight ; whereas all the gods 
of Olympus might alight in one of the neighbouring 
Beeches without giving one the least feeling of appre- 
hension for their safety. 

Lower down the same lane a little deeply-bending 
Ash is making a brave fight for life and root-hold, but 
a fight in which I fear it will be conquered. It makes 
a kind of frantic clutch at the bank both above and 
below ; indeed, the appearance of strenuous action is 
so vehement that it looks as if it had been suddenly 
arrested while in the act of making a despairing grasp 
for safety. I much fear how this little tree may fare. 
Every year, as its over-balancing trunk grows heavier, 
it bends down lower. Just below the drooping swan- 
necked base of the trunk, and now only a few inches 



42 HOME AND GARDEN 



from it, is a nose of rock jutting out of the bank. 
When it comes down those few inches and rests upon 
the stone what will happen ? Will the stone give it so 
much rest and support that the roots, instead of ex- 
pending all their strength in merely clutching for dear 
life, will be able to grow into supporting strength ? 
Or will it act as a fulcrum and hasten the tree's destruc- 
tion by giving a resisting point whereby the weight of 
the head, by the force of leverage, will prise the roots 
upward out of the ground ? Or will the stone itself, 
after giving delusive support for a time, fall out of the 
bank ? In this case I do not see what could possibly 
save the tree. I often pass that Avay, and always look 
with sympathetic interest to see how it goes with my 
brave little friend. 

Its next neighbour, a Beech, only a few yards away, 
is firmly seated on a strong ledge of rock, and looks as 
if its support had been built up from below with well- 
planned masonry. But as it has no tap-root, I think 
nothing could save it if these rocks gave way. 

In the same lane, a few hundred yards away, are 
some larger Beeches. Among these, one presents a 
kind of wall of root to the side of the lane. I never 
fail to notice how well and beautifully that tree 
has managed its means of support. The bank is of 
hard yellow sand, with strata of spongy half-formed 
rock. The main roots have turned back under the 
butt, and wind forward and back like a closely down- 
pressed S, running horizontally along one inhospitable 




Root of Scotch Fir. 



TREES AND LANES 



43 



shelf and turning under and back at some vulnerable 
spot, always searching for firm support. The ends of 
the roots have travelled away, right and left, more than 
thirty yards from the base of the tree, and their feeding 
points are still more distant, rambling just under the 
surface of the bank in search of the rather sparsQ 
nutriment. 

A few miles away, where a road cuts through the 
foot of a steep hill thickly clothed with Scotch Fir, the 
same decay of the sandy soil is going on, and the Firs 
at its extreme edge, evidently aware of their danger, 
are providing against it in much the same manner, by 
throwing down a thick columnar root. To the Scotch 
Fir this constructive method seems to come even more 
naturally than to the Beech, because it has a strong tap- 
root, which easily adapts itself to the transformation into 
true stem ; indeed, in one example it is difficult to believe 
that the tree was not originally rooted at the lower 
level ; the true roots that hold to the top of the bank 
look almost out of place, and as if by some capricious 
freak some branches had rooted into the edge of the 
scarp. The transformation is all the more complete 
in that tho converted root is clothed with a true bark 
in all respects like that of the upper trunk, separating 
when mature into the same upright scale-like plates. 

The hollow sandy lanes in my near neighbourhood 
seem exactly fitted to demonstrate the ways and w^ants 
and manner of rooting of all the different trees, and 
the bright yellow sand makes one all the more enjoy 



44 



HOME AND GARDEN 



the delicate beauty of colour of silvery bark of Birch 
and Beech and Holly, and that of the bases of great 
Oaks, more rugged of texture, but just as tender in 
colourings of grey and silver-green lichens. And it is 
fine to see a giant Holly with smooth white stem more 
than two feet thick — one hedgerow Holly that I know 
girths seven feet three inches — the white stem shoot- 
ing up into its own forest of dark-green prickly 
leafage. 

Dense cushions of Polypody Fern grow about the 
bases of many of the hedge trees, especially where the 
road or lane passes through woodland. The Poly- 
podies seem to like best the roots of Oaks and Hazels, 
and then of Beeches, and to grow at the extreme edge 
or side of the bank ; for though the ferny mass may 
spread to be a yard wide on the top of the bank, it is 
much less usual to find it on any level ground away 
from the edge. 

I have more than once observed that the northern 
Hard Fern {Blechnum horeale) seems to have some 
liking for growing near Hollies. I do not know if it is 
the same elsewhere, but I think of three damp hedge- 
banks with wet ditches at the foot, where there are 
both Hollies and Blechnums ; in most cases where a 
Holly occurs there is a Blechnum just under it. Two of 
these hedges are three miles apart, and the third is six 
miles away from the nearest of the other two. 

So frequent are some wild plants in hedge-banks, 
and so comparatively scarce in other places, that one 



TREES AND LANES 



45 



might almost think the hedges had a flora of their 
own. The Cuckoo-pint {Ariim maculatum) is one of 
our most constant hedge-plants, for though one may 
come on a fine clump here and there in copses and 
cool woodland slopes, it is only on the sides of hedges 
and at their foot that one sees it by the square yard. 

Is it only an instance of patriotic prejudice, or is it 
really, as I believe, a fact, that no country roads and 
lanes in the temperate world are so full of sweet and 
homely pictorial incident as those of our dear England ? 
For apart from the living pictures of tree and bush, 
fern and flower, rampant tangle and garland of wild 
Rose and Honeysuckle, Hop and Briony, and of all 
these combined with rocky bank and mossy slope, 
there are the many incidents of human interest. The 
lowly cottage dwellings of the labouring folk; the 
comfortable farmstead, almost a village in itself, with 
its farmhouse and one or two cottages, its barns, 
stables, cowhouses and piggeries, waggon sheds and 
granaries. The cottages are of the older type, built 
before the times of easy communication, when what 
are now well-kept bye-roads were only sandy tracks. 
They are precious examples of the true buildings of 
the country, for they must have been made of the 
material available from within a few miles only, and 
they were built by the men who Imew no other ways 
of working than those of their fathers before them. 
This is why these farms and cottages seem to grow 
out of the ground, and are the true and living ex- 



46 HOME AND GARDEN 



pression of the needs and means of fulfilling them 
proper to the country. 

Many are the defects of the old buildings, for 
when they were reared no provision was made for 
preventing the damp from the earth from rising into 
the walls, and the brick flooring was laid straight 
on the earth or sand, without any under layer of 
damp-proof concrete. One has to admit that modern- 
built cottages are warmer, drier, and more healthy ; 
but, to those who feel as I do, it is a matter of 
never-ending regret that those who build them have 
so little care for local tradition, and for the import- 
ance, from some of the higher points of view, of using 
local material in the same spirit of simple truth that 
animated the builders of old days. The ease of 
modern communication, and the pressure of trade 
competition, together with the sordid striving for 
cheapness, are the regrettable causes of the building 
of the wretched mongrel cottages, roofed with slates 
from Wales, or machine-pressed tiles from Stafford- 
shire, that are hung on rafters of cheap white fir 
from Norway ; no wonder the poor things look hideous 
and ashamed, and as if aware that they have no right 
to exist. It is just as easy, though a little more 
costly both of money and thought, to build the 
perfectly sound and wholesome cottage of the right 
local material. In several cases it is being done in 
my neighbourhood by owners who make it a matter 
of conscience to build well and rightly. In my own 




Kntranck dow n to Farmhouse from Road. 




Paved Cottage Entrance-path. 



TREES AND LANES 



47 



small way I have done what I could, and three good 
cottages will survive me. 

In the old country dwellings by the roadsides, not 
only is the main fabric of near-at-hand material, but, 
if the cottage stands a few feet above the road, there 
will be a bit of dry wall and rough steps made of the 
Avide slab- shaped stones that occur in some of the 
upper strata of the stone-pits. When they come out 
of the quarry they are rough and rugged of surface, 
but they are soon worn smooth. Often there are a 
few square yards of paving at a cottage entrance, and 
most commonly some of the same sandstone slabs are 
laid flat, and the rest of the pavement is a " pitching " 
of the black stones that are found in and near the 
heathlands just below the surface. They are water- 
washed stones containing a large proportion of iron ; 
a large number of them have one flattened edge that 
makes an admirable paving surface ; they are so hard 
that their wearing power is almost indefinite. Smaller 
pieces of the sandstone are also used in the same way. 
The picture shows a paved path just within the road- 
side wicket that gives access to a row of three vine- 
clad cottages. It is a mixed pavement of sandstone 
slab, sandstone and ironstone pitching, and brick. 
The Pinks and Wall-flowers, Pansies and Sweet- Williams 
of the cottage flower-borders never look so well as 
when hanging over the edges of these paved paths ; 
in the case of the present illustration the two-flowered 
Everlasting Pea {Latliyrus (/randijiorv.s) under the dove's 



48 



HOME AND GARDEN 



cage, a favourite cottage plant, grows thrivingly in the 
already crowded border, barely a foot wide, between 
the building and the pavement. 

It is in the old cottages that we find the true 
old country people, some of whose womenkind have 
hardly ever been more than ten miles from home ; 
people who still retain the speech and ways of thought 
and plain simple dress of the early part of the century. 
All my life I can remember my old friend with the 
donkey-cart, in intimate association with the lanes 
near my home. He worked under the road-surveyor, 
trimming overgrowing hedges and road edges, and re- 
moving incidental obstructions, as of the many Hazels 
pulled down and left hanging into the road by nut- 
hunting boys in September, and boughs blown down by 
winter storms, and drifts of dead leaves in November. 
The white donkey, who carried tools and worker, 
waited all day on some handy wayside patch of 'grass 
where he found food and rest. Man and beast grew 
old together in many a long year's companionship of 
toil, until at length neither could work any longer. A 
farmer who was a kind neigfhbour to the old man told 
me a pathetic story of how he had come to ask him 
to shoot the old donkey, who could no longer feed 
and was evidently very near his end. " The old man 
he sobbed and cried something turrible," said my 
friend the farmer. Afterwards, when I asked how old 
the donkey was, and how long the two had worked 
together, the old road-man said : "I know his age 




A Woodland Lane. 



TREES AND LANES 



49 



exactly ; he is the same age as my youngest son, and 
that's twenty-seven." When he had made an end of the 
poor old beast, the farmer observing Avhat a thick long 
coat the donkey had, took off the skin and had it 
cured at the tannery. Some months later, seeing 
what a handsome pelt it made, I bought it of him, 
and now my friends take it for the skin of a polar 
bear, for it is almost white, and the mass of soft hair 
is nearly three inches deep. 

Full of interest as are the hedges, with their trees 
and bushes and flowery growths, the roads and lanes 
that pass unfenced through wood or waste are more 
beautiful still, indeed an unmade woodland track is 
the nearest thing to a road-poem that anything of the 
kind can show. It is full of a sympathetic mystery 
that inclines the mind to open wide in readiness to 
receive any impression that may be presented. The 
trees meet overhead ; the light coming through the 
thick leafage is dim and green ; the drowsy hum of 
many little winged creatures comes faintly from far over- 
head ; the track Avinds, and one cannot see far onward. 
What will the next reach disclose ? Some living wild 
thing, scarcely fearful because the way is so seldom used 
— squirrel, rabbit, red-deer, wild-boar? charcoal-burners, 
coming from the yet wilder wooded heights beyond ? a 
knight in shining armour ? a ring of fairies dancing under 
an oak ? all equally possible in the dim green forest light. 

And most mysterious of all are the tracks that 
pass through the woods of tall pines, for these woods 

D 



50 



HOME AND GARDEN 



are so solemn and so silent. Sometimes one may 
hear the harsh scream of the jay or the noisy flight of 
the wood-pigeon, but for the most part in windless 
weather they are almost without sound, for here there 
arc none of the small song-birds that love the summer- 
leafing trees. Winter and summer these woods wear 
nearly the same aspect, except that the Bracken that 
grows where the Firs are thinnest, is green in summer 
and rusty-brown in winter. But where the trees stand 
thickly nothing grows upon the ground. Even moss 
is absent. The peaty earth shows purplish-grey 
through the dull brown of the carpet of fir-needle; 
the same colouring being exactly repeated in the 
trunks of the trees. The whole scene is painted in a 
monotone of purple-grey — solemn, quiet, by no means 
unbeautiful. And in harmony with the subdued 
colouring is the endless repetition of upright tree- 
stem, adding, as such an arrangement of line always 
does, to the impression of soletim dignity. 

Why this is so I know not, though it is plain to 
feel. For whether it be in our own home woods or in 
the great Fir forests of Alpine regions, or in the masts 
of shipping in the crowded port, or the succession of 
coluums in some great building, or in the upright 
shafts of the soldiers' lances in the " Surrender of Breda " 
of Velasquez, there can be no doubt that a distinct 
impression of dignity and solemnity is aroused by the 
presentment of some such close grouping of aspiring line. 

A simply-built bridge is always a pleasant thing to 




One of the Old 1>ridges. 



TREES AND LANES 



51 



see, and I am happy in having within easy driving 
reach six good old bridges, built of the rough sand- 
stone quarried in the neighbouring hilly ground, span- 
ning the same small river at different points. I amuse 
myself by conjecturing how the arches were built, 
because their ragged outline points to some ruder 
method of support than the usual wooden " centering " 
of modern work. I suppose that there was some 
rough construction of tree trunks and faggoting and 
earth put up to build upon, just as the vaulted rooms 
are built to this day in Southern Italy, where wood is 
not to be had, by building up faggots of brushwood 
and earth into the form of a filling of vault or dome 
or waggon head. The wooden railing and way of 
supporting the posts is the old way of the country, 
though doubtless the original railing was of oak roughly 
split, not sawn. In some cases a wall about two feet 
high is carried up, but this takes away some of the 
space of the none-too-wide roadway ; in one case, I 
regret to say, in place of the older parapet of wood or 
stone, the fine old bridge has been hopelessly disfigured 
by a cast-iron railing, painted white. 

It is interesting to see that by the side of each one 
of these old bridges there is the plain evidence of a 
still older ford ; where the river had been widened and 
shallowed, and where the water, there only a few inches 
deep, still flows over the artificial stony bed, and the 
hollow track of the old road still shows, through some 
centuries' overgi'owth of grass and weed. 



CHAPTER V 

WILD HONEYSUCKLE 

Many and various are the ways of the wild Honey- 
suckle. In woody places it mil trail about the ground 
and weave a loose copse-carpet from ankle to mid-leg 
deep, making many a snare for the unwary walker. 
One must step high and clear the foot each time, or 
one is likely to be thrown down by the tangled web of 
vegetable cordage. In this state it does not flower, 
but where there is a clearing and more light it takes 
advantage of any suitable support, and then seems to 
go up with a rush, and tumbles out in swags and 
garlands that in the long summer days are lovely and 
fragrant with the wealth of sweetly-scented bloom. 
During my wood walk I come upon a young Oak with 
a trunk about a foot thick. I should judge that it is 
sixty feet high, and the top is full of Honeysuckle. 
In this case the Honeysuckle throws up three main 
stems from the ground. At a foot from the root two 
of these have twined together and make a fairly even 
two-stranded rope. A little higher they are joined by 
the third, and at six feet from the ground the three 
twine tightly and look like a badly-spun rope nearly 
two inches thick. So they advance up the tree, some- 

52 



WILD HONEYSUCKLE 53 

times leaping away from each other, and then again 
coming together and twining rope-fashion. The lowest 
branch of the Oak must be twelve feet from the ground, 
and I do not know how the climber may have reached 
it, for it has only twined upon itself, not upon the tree, 
but there may have been smaller branches, since dead 
and fallen, that helped it to rise. 

The Honeysuckle does not seem to be willing to 
twine round anything of large diameter ; I never see 
it about trunks whose thickness is more than ten 
inches or thereabouts, and when it does coil about an 
Oak of that size, the tree, then coated with its strong 
rough bark, has enough rending power as it expands 
to burst its bonds and be free. 

But smaller trees often suffer a good deal from 
the close constriction of the woody creeper. For the 
Honeysuckle is a true tree, and its long stems are of 
true wood, of a quality both hard and tough, and all 
the tougher because the fibres of the individual stems 
are twisted like a rope. In the copse part of my own 
ground there are many examples — young trees badly 
hurt and scarred for life. One young Beech, whose 
stem is only four inches through, has thrown out thick 
swellings that look like a couple of close coils of a 
great python, and that more than double its diameter 
at the point of injury. The living Honeysuckle is no 
longer there, but I suspect that some of its hard wood is 
enclosed within the swollen twists, and that throughout 
its lifetime the tree will bear the mark of the early injury. 



54 



HOME AND GARDEN 



Within a few paces a young Oak, with a trunk five 
inches thick, is tightly girthed with close coils of 
Honeysuckle. Some of the coils are deeply imbedded 
in the bark. This tree has also thrown out python- 
like swellings, which seem to close over and compress 
and strive to choke the invading climber. In some 
cases the grip is deadly to the Honeysuckle ; in others 
it still lives, buried in the substance of the Oak. But 
if here and there it is gripped to death it matters little 
to the Woodbine, whose assault is in force of numbers, 
for besides nine distinct coils round this young tree, there 
are eighteen ropes and cords leaping into it from below ; 
some of them direct from the ground, and some from 
a young Spanish Chestnut whose root is only three feet 
from that of the Oak. I see that the original stem of 
the Chestnut stops short about four feet from the 
ground, above which is eighteen inches of dead and 
rotting snag. It looks as if the fight between tree and 
climber had here ended in the tree's defeat, and as if 
its top had died and fallen, bringing down the Honey- 
suckle to share and endure the ruin it had planned 
and brought about. 

But the Chestnut is evidently a clever and even 
crafty little tree, for not only has it repaired its 
disaster by throwing out a lusty young upward growth 
to take the place of its fallen top, but at the point 
where this springs from the short original trunk it has 
placed a small lateral branch which leads away the 
Honeysuckle right into the neighbouring Oak. 




liLECII STEM DISTORTED 15V 



IIONEYSUCKLE. 



WILD HONEYSUCKLE 55 



I do not know what ethical standard may prevail 
among vegetation, but it looks like a mean action on 
the part of the Chestnut : to decoy the enemy away 
from himself, and to deliver his near neighbour into 
the same enemy's hands. Or is it an example of heroic 
self-sacrifice on the part of the Oak ? Perhaps the Oak 
said, " Neighbour, throw out a little branch and send 
me the enemy. I am doomed already ; a little more 
can only bring the end somewhat sooner. You have 
made one brave fight already, and though scarred for 
life, will live and do well. When I die and fall, as I 
must within a very few years, our enemy, now held up 
by me to the sunlight and gaily flowering, will lie in a 
mangled heap on the floor of the wood, where, over- 
shadowed by your spreading branches, he will never 
bloom again, but must remain content with a lowlier 
way of life." The little Oak seems to be vainly 
striving for its life ; it was gripped while still young, 
and the greater part of it is killed already — slowly 
but surely throttled by the deadly coils ; indeed it 
is now no longer an Oak tree but a Honeysuckle 
tree. 

Not far off is another young Oak, but this has a 
thicker trunk, quite seven inches through, and strong 
enough to burst any ropes of Honeysuckle that may be 
round it, while some of rather less diameter, also strong 
enough to get free at last, show by diagonal swollen 
ridges, with a hollow channel in the middle, the place 
where the serpent-like coil encircled them for perhaps a 



56 



HOME AND GARDEN 



year or two. Where these evidences of former constric- 
tion are not very deep or thick, they will in time dis- 
appear, but if the swelling has grown over the hard 
rope and entirely shut it in, the python-like shape will 
probably last for life. 

On some Spanish Chestnuts, with trunks about nine 
inches through, some young shoots of Honeysuckle are 
trying to establish themselves. But they are only the 
size of round leather boot-laces, and I see by dark 
marks on the Chestnut's smooth, deep olive-green-grey 
bark, sometimes above and sometimes below the pre- 
sent placing of the laces, that their position has been 
shifted by the growth of the tree, which, at its age and 
strength, has no longer anything to fear. 

The strength of the Woodbine band and its hard- 
ness are quite surprising, and many a young stem of 
Oak and Beech, of Birch and Chestnut, gripped by its 
iron coil, remains maimed and distorted for life. 

In my o^vn copse, within a space of less than half 
an acre, all these examples occur, and others of young 
Beeches, some of them good examples of the python 
coils thrown out by the constricted tree. It would, of 
course, be easy to relieve the trees of the damaging 
climber, but it is so interesting to watch the struggle, 
and to see what comes of it, that in this part of the 
wood I leave it to do as it will. 

For a long time, seven or eight years as nearly as 
I can remember, there was one out of the many young 
Scotch Firs in the upper part of the wood whose then 




The Lane of the Ghost-cart, 



WILD HONEYSUCKLE 57 



four-inch-thick trunk showed that it had had a fairly 
strong twist of Honeysuckle round it. About shoulder- 
high for some eighteen inches it was of a mild cork- 
screw shape, and as it stood close to a path on the 
way to church, it became our habit always to look at 
it, and to observe whether Crinkum, as we called it, 
would always retain the twist. But as the years 
passed, and the tree grew on in its vigorous young 
strength, it bscame quite clear that the twist was being 
surely drawn out, and now Crinkum, though he still 
answers to his name, is as straight of stem as any of 
his fellows. In another part of my woody ground is 
a spreading Holly with many stems ; three of them 
fairly large and seven smaller. Here the Honeysuckle 
runs up in the usual ropes, but having reached the 
top, it tumbles down by the side of the shaded path 
nearly to the ground in a straight cataract some eleven 
feet high. It does not seem to harm the Hollies, but 
in a general way when it rushes up them, and throws 
out its crowns and garlands of sweetest scent, they seem 
to be only on the best and friendliest of terms. 

It is in our wild hilly lands that the lovely Wood- 
bine is seen at its best : where it climbs up some bush 
or small tree. Thorn or Juniper for preference, and 
flings out its fragrant wreaths of lovely bloom, a very 
embodiment of sun-loving gladness. 

And if I have perhaps dwelt overmuch on the way 
it has of sometimes injuring its forest neighbours, it 
is only because it has always seemed to me a thing 



58 



HOME AND GARDEN 



so strange and interesting to see how the lesser growth 
can attack and overcome the greater, and because from 
childhood those spirally twisted and swollen stems, so 
often met with in the woodlands, have always had for 
me an almost mysterious attractiveness. 

But none the less do I feel and know that it is one 
of the most delight-giving of our native plants. No 
other flowering thing that I know leaps and laughs as 
does the fragrant Woodbine. It is as if it sang aloud : 
" Let all vv^ho have eyes to see and hearts to feel, 
be glad vnth. me in the long sweet days of mid-most 
summer." 

Through the commonest hedgerow it will feel its 
way, and lightly twine a crown of glory on the head 
of the humblest vegetation ; and when in our hills a 
moss-grown Thorn or Juniper dies of old age, the 
Woodbine will give it glorious burial, covering the 
hoary branches with a freshness of young life and a 
generous and gladly-given wreathing of sweetest bloom. 



CHAPTER VI 



BRIER ROSES 

I AM always dreaming of having delightful gardens 
for special seasons where one good flower should 
predominate; but for June with its wealth of flowers 
there Avould have to be several special gardens. And, 
though I have not the means wherewith to do it as 
fully as I should wish, however strong may be my 
desire, I can at least show an attempt on a small 
scale, and also put down what ideas I may have, 
so that others, more bountifully endowed, may read 
and profit if they will. For June demands an Iris 
garden, and a Pseony garden, and an early Rose 
garden, and a garden for Poppies, besides half wood- 
like gardens for Azaleas and for Rhododendrons. 
But in early June the garden-wish that lies nearest 
to my heart is to have a beautiful planting of Brier 
Roses. 

I have already a sunny bank of Briers some twenty- 
five yards long and six feet wide, and many will no 
doubt ask, " Is not that enough ? " I can only answer, 
" No, it is not enough." If one has a picture to paint, 
whose subject and method of treatment demand a 
large canvas, one cannot be contented with a small 



60 HOME AND GARDEN 



one. I am truly thankful that I have my bank of 
Briers, but satisfied I am not. Because now, seeing 
how they may be worthily treated, largely, broadly, 
beautifully, I desii'e to do it, and to do it carefully on 
my own ground where I can Avatch and wait and 
correct, and at last get it to such a state that it grows 
into a picture that I am not ashamed to show. And 
as the blooming time of the Brier Roses is a short 
one, I should group with them another family of 
plants whose flowering season would immediately 
follow. Such a family is at hand in the Cistince. And 
I would carpet the whole with the common English 
Heaths, always allowing the wild Calluna to be in 
chief abundance, with here and there a wide-spreading 
patch of the white Menziesia. Such a garden or half- 
Avild planting would by no means preclude the use of 
the Briers in other ways, for if I had to deal with a 
perfectly formal garden, full of architectural detail, 
the dainty little laughing Briers would be called in 
to show how well they would also grace the well- 
ordered refinements of garden-building. For every- 
where, and in all sorts of gardens, they are equally at 
home ; looking as well and as rightly placed by the 
wrought-stone balustrade that bounds the terrace of 
the palace, as in the narrow spaces given to flowers 
that border the path from the high-road to the 
peasant's cottage. 

My Brier Rose garden should have grass paths ; 
whether wide or narrow, straight or winding, could 



BRIER ROSES 



61 



only be determined on the spot and in relation to all 
that was near about it. It is one of the few kinds 
of gardening that could be easily done on such poor 
sandy soil as mine, because its hungry dryness suits 
the companion Cistuses and also the setting of wild 
Heaths which should be mingled with the fine grasses 
natural to the heathy soil, while the path and planting 
should join by a gentle and gradual passing of the one 
into the other rather than by any hard or abrupt 
transition. The Briers themselves will want a more 
careful preparation of the ground ; trenching Avithout 
any manuring will do for the Heath and grass and 
Cistuses, but though the wild English parent of the 
garden Briers is at home in sandy heaths, and though 
it will just exist if planted in the poor ground, it takes 
so long to grow that it is well to moderately enrich 
its place with some good leaf mould and spent manure. 
Then the Briers will grow apace, and though they make 
but little growth the first year, they are all the time 
working underground ; by the second year they will 
make good promise, and by the third there should be 
a fair show. 

The Briers are mainly the garden varieties, single 
and double, of the Burnet Rose (B. spinosissima). 
They are old garden plants, and though I have been 
always collecting them, I daresay that in many a good 
old English garden there may be more and better 
variants than just those I have been able to get to- 
gether. My first to bloom, within the earliest days of 



62 



HOME AND GARDEN 



June, and even in the latest of May, is a single one of 
pale pink colour. It is a plant of weak half-trailing 
habit, often scarcely rising from the ground ; but the 
crowded bloom has a tender loveliness that is full of 
charm. Then follows the Burnet Rose, standing up in 
bold bushy masses and covered with its crowds of 
lemon-white single flowers. The next in order of 
blooming is the half-double rose-coloured. I have had 
several forms of this, differing a little in shape of 
flower, and a good deal in colour. One or two have 
been discarded as less good in colour, only the one I 
thought best being kept. This has lively flowers of a 
bright rose-crimson; the colour brightest in the half- 
opened bloom, in which state also it looks more double 
than it really is, for it has only three rows of petals. 
As the flower expands and shows the full yellow 
bunch of stamens and the white base of the petals, it 
becomes paler in colour, passing at last into a pale 
pinkish-white. 

The next Brier to bloom is the double pink, with 
the strong sweet luscious scent ; the perfect Rose- 
scent ; the true attar. Perhaps it is this perfect Rose- 
sweetness that makes this Brier my prime favourite, or 
it may be the combination of this delightful quality 
with the merit of its perfect form. But however it 
may be, this little flower seems to carry me back 
through the hfetime of past generations, and to put me 
in friendliest fashion in touch with the flower- lovers of 
them all ; for to me it bears in its tender half-opened 



BRIER ROSES 



63 



blossoms, with their dainty rosy depths and sweetest 
perfume, the whole sentiment of the deeply-rooted 
English love of flower-beauty and purest enjoyment of 
garden-delight. 

The Rose of this class that seems to be the most 
vigorous of all, and that comes next in time of bloom- 
ing, is the double white. In habit of growth it is the 
one most like the common ancestor, the wild Burnet 
Rose, making dense bushy masses and bearing a pro- 
fusion of neatly-shaped flowers. Then comes the 
double yellow, the slowest and weakest of growth, but 
with large loosely-shaped flowers of a very tender and 
beautiful pale yeJlow colour. I suppose it to be a 
hybrid, and to derive the tint from the yellow Aus- 
trian. This Austrian Brier in the single and double 
forms is also on the same bank, Avith its splendidly 
coloured variety the Austrian Copper ; but they are of 
Oriental origin and do better against a warm wall. In 
the Austrian Copper, the vivid scarlet of the inside of 
the petal is laid on in a thin film over a ground of 
yellow. To get the same powerful quality of red 
colouring a painter has to use exactly the same artifice. 
I notice that Nasturtiums are painted in the same 
manner, but here the film of colour is laid on still more 
delicately, for whereas in the Brier petal one can peel 
off the red surface and show the yellow ground, one 
cannot do it in the Nasturtium. Here the texture of 
the petal is not so tough, and the most delicate touch 
with a fine needle brealvs up the fragile skin, leaving 



64 



HOME AND GARDEN 



a wet discoloured wound. The surface colour seems 
to be lightly dusted on, and by taking a flower of a 
middle orange colour, not too deep, one may see on the 
lower petals, where the colour lightens towards the 
little fringe of pointed slashings, how the brilliant 
powdering gradually ceases, and here and there hoAV 
the yellow ground is laid bare, where the surface of the 
flower has received some gentle abrasion, more delicate 
than can be done by hand, as of wind-rubbing of one 
petal upon another. 

With the Scotch Briers I have a bush of Rosa 
altaica, hardly distinguishable from the Burnet Rose, 
except that the pale lemon-white flowers are a size 
larger, the leaves a shade bluer, and the whole growth 
rather more vigorous. 

The hybrid Brier, Stanwell Perpetual, is also on 
the bank. It deserves the term " Perpetual " better 
than any Rose I know, for besides its fairly full 
bloom in early June, it bears a straggling succession 
of its fragrant pale pink flowers throughout the 
summer. 

There is a look about the leafage of the varieties 
of Bosa rv.gosa that seems to fit them for association 
with the Briers. The colour of the type rugosa is un- 
pleasant to me, so I have only the paler pink one and 
the white. But these are on the top of the bank, and 
with them, now a large bush seven feet high, is the 
good and long-blooming hybrid, Madame Georges 
Bruant. A lovely thing is the newer double white 



BRIER ROSES 



65 



Blanche de Coubert. It is quite the purest and 
coldest white of any Rose I know, and one is so un- 
accustomed to seeing a Rose with distinctly blue 
shading, that the first sight of it in bloom out of 
doors gave me a sort of pleasing shock, and an im- 
pression as of a Rose doing something quite new. 

The common Sweet-brier and the beautiful Pen- 
zance hybrids would have their place in the large 
Brier garden that I like to imagine ; there would be 
whole brakes of them in the background, some grow- 
ing at will without support and some ramping through 
Thorns and Hollies. 

The Scotch Briers have the great merit as garden 
plants — a merit that scarcely any other family of 
Roses can claim — of being in some kind of beauty 
throughout the year ; for in autumn the Burnet Rose 
and some of the varieties bear large black fruits that 
are distinctly handsome, and the foliage assumes a rich 
duskiness of smoky red-bronze ; while in winter there 
is a pleasant warmth of colour about the dense bushy 
masses 

When I advised the planting of the common 
Heath {Calluna) as a groundwork of the Briers, it was 
with no thought of its flowering, for that is not till 
August, but for the sake of its quiet leaf-colouring ; 
grey-green when the Briers bloom, and later of a 
sober rustiness ; its own change of colouring keeping 
pace with that of the small Rose bushes. In neither 

E 



66 HOME AND GARDEN 



case do tlie companion plants imitate or match each 
other in colour, but both advance in the progress of 
the year's transformation by such a sequence of quiet 
harmonies, that at every season each is the better for 
the nearness of the other. 



CHAPTER YII 



MIDSUMMER 

" Thou sentest a gracious rain upon thine inheritance ; 
and refreshedst it when it was weary." 

The whole garden is singing this hymn of praise 
and thankfulness. It is the middle of J une ; no rain 
had fallen for nearly a month, and our dry soil had 
become a hot dust above, a hard cake below. A 
burning wind from the east that had prevailed for 
some time, had brought quantities of noisome blight, 
and had left all vegetation, already parched with 
drought, a helpless prey to the devouring pest. 
Bushes of garden Roses had their buds swarming 
with gi-een-fly, and all green things, their leaves first 
coated and their pores clogged with viscous stickiness, 
and then covered with adhering wind-blown dust, were 
in a pitiable state of dirt and suffocation. But last 
evening there was a gathering of grey cloud, and this 
ground of grey was traversed by those fast- travelling 
wisps of fleecy blackness that are the surest promise 
of near rain the sky can show. By bedtime rain was 
falling steadily, and in the night it came down on the 
roof in a small thunder of steady downpour. It was 
pleasant to wake from time to time and hear the wel- 

67 



68 HOME AND GARDEN 



come sound, and to know that the clogged leaves were 
being washed clean, and that their pores were once 
more drawing in the breath of life, and that the thirsty 
roots were drinking their fill. And now, in the morn- 
ing, how good it is to see the brilliant light of the 
blessed summer day, always brightest just after rain, 
and to see how every tree and plant is full of new life 
and abounding gladness ; and to feel one's own thank- 
fulness of heart, and that it is good to live, and all the 
more good to Uve in a garden. 

The rain-drops still lodge in the grateful foliage. 
I like to see how the different forms and surfaces hold 
the little glistening globes. Of the plants close at 
hand the way of the Tree-Lupin is the most noticeable. 
Every one of the upright-standing leaves, like a little 
hand of eight or ten fingers, holds in its palm a drop 
more than a quarter of an inch in diameter. Each 
leaflet is edged with a line of light ; the ball of water 
holds together by the attraction of its own particles, 
although there is a good space between the leaflets, 
offering ten conduits by which one expects it to drain 
away. Quite different is the way the wet hangs on 
the woolly leaves of Verhascum phlomoides. Here it is 
in long straggles of differently sized and shaped drops, 
the woolly surface preventing free flow. In this plant 
the water does not always seem to penetrate to the 
actual leaf-surface ; occasionally it does and wets the 
whole leaf, but more usually, when the drops remain after 
lain at night, they are held up by the hairy coating. 




Mullein {Verbascum phlomoidcs). {See page i^'^.) 



MIDSUMMER 



69 



Many of these downy leaves seem to repel water 
altogether, such as those of Yellow Alyssuin and the 
other tall Mullein (V. olympicum), in whose case the 
water rolls right off, only lodging where there is a 
hollow or obstruction. The drops always look brightest 
on these un-wetting surfaces, and while rolling look 
like quicksilver. 

Before the rain came it was a puzzle to know what 
to do with the half-hardy annuals. Although carefully 
pricked out and well spaced in the pans and boxes, 
they were growing fast and crowding one another, and 
we Imew that if put out, the planting would have to be 
followed up by a daily watering. In a normal season 
they would have been out a fortnight ago, for it is 
unusual to have so long a drought so early in the 
year. 

Any one who is in close sympathy with flower and 
tree and shrub, and has a general acquaintance with 
Nature's moods, could tell the time of year to within 
a few days without any reference to a calendar ; but 
of all dates it seems to me that Midsummer Day is 
the one most clearly labelled, by the full and perfect 
flowering of the Elder. It may be different in more 
northern latitudes, but in mine, which is about half 
way between London and the south coast, the Festival 
of St. John and the flowering of the Elder always come 
together ; and though other plants, blooming at other 
seasons, are subject to considerable variation in their 



70 



HOME AND GARDEN 



time of flowering, scarcely any is noticeable in the 
Elder. So that one may say that however changeable 
in their characters may be the other days most pro- 
minent in the almanac from their connection with 
Feasts of the Church or matters of custom, yet 
Midsummer Day always falls on the 24th of June. 
Indeed I have often noticed that however abuorraal 
may have been the preceding seasons, things seem 
to right themselves about the middle of this month. 

The country people say that the roots of Elder 
must never be allowed to come near a well, still less 
to grow into it, or the water will be spoilt. The 
young shoots are full of a very thick pith ; we used 
to dry it in my young days, and make it into little 
round balls for use in electrical experiments. The 
scent of the flowers, especially wind-wafted, I think 
very agreeable, though they smell too strong to bring 
indoors. If I were not already overdone with home 
industries, I should distil fragrant Elder -flower water ; 
but I let the berries ripen and make them into Elder- 
wine, a pleasant, comforting, and wholesome drink for 
winter evenings. 

It is always convenient to have names for the 
different parts of a garden. I made this remark to 
a friend as we were passing a solid wooden seat under 
one of the tall Birches that give rather a distinct 
character to the lawn and garden space just north of 
the house, and I added that a name for that seat was 



The Cenotaph of Sigismunda. 



MIDSUMMER 



71 



much wanted. As if inspired, he at once said : " Call 
it the Cenotaph of Sigismunda." The name was so 
undoubtedly suitable to the monumental mass of Elm, 
and to its somewhat funereal environment of weeping 
Birch and spire-like Mullein, that it took hold at once, 
and the Cenotaph of Sigismunda it will always be as 
long as I am alive to sit on it. It is a favourite resort 
of the pussies, sheltered, and receiving the alternate 
benefits of full afternoon sun and its milder filtration 
through the still taller Birches opposite. Pinkieboy's 
portrait, at page 257, was done there while he was 
enjoying his after-dinner siesta. 

How endlessly beautiful are the various kinds of 
Iris, of which so many bloom in June. In fact they are 
plants for nine months of the year, for stylosa begins 
to flower in November, and before its long blooming 
season, extending to April, is over, there comes the 
glorious purple Iris reticulata and its varieties, and in 
a snug sunny place at the foot of a south wall Iris 
jjcrsica, whose delicate petals of palest greenish-blue 
are boldly painted with stronger colours ; and the 
curious Iris tuberosa of Italy, made of black velvet 
and green satin. Then come the wonderful Irises of 
the Oncocyclus group, not plants for every garden, 
because some arrangement has to be made for keeping 
the bulbs dry to ripen after flowering, without removing 
them from the ground. But those who will take the 
trouble of giving them the needful treatment have the 
reward of seeing some of the most wonderful and yet 



72 



HOME AND GARDEN 



beautiful flowers that can be grown, and, moreover, 
flowers that are surprisingly large for the size of 
the plant. The dwarf Irises, types and varieties of 
pumila, olbiensis, and chamceiris, and some other dwarf 
broad-leaved species, begin to flower in the end of 
May with the lovely pale blue Crimean variety of 
immila, the only Iris I have seen except persica that 
may truly be called blue ; for though the common 
blue Flag, or so-called German Iris, is of a fine bluish- 
purple, it is very far from being blue. The best one 
I am acquainted with of this class of colouring and 
the nearest to blue is the beautiful and free-flowering 
/. Ciengialti, a little taller than the dwarf Flags, but 
shorter than the mass of those that bloom in June. 

The varieties of flag Iris have a large geographical 
distribution through the warmer latitudes of Southern 
and Eastern Europe and Asia Minor ; the many others 
that grace our gardens coming from all parts of the 
Northern temperate zone. For garden purposes the 
flag-leaved Irises are put under certain heads which 
may be briefly described thus : — 

Iris albicans, pure white ; a beautiful plant in the 
type, but the variety Princess of Wales is still better. 

Iris jlormtina. The grey-white Iris so common 
about Florence. The dried root is orris, a word which is 
only a corruption of iris. The Florentine Iris is one of 
the earliest of its class to bloom, and at the same time 
one of the most free ; a grand garden plant. 

Iris "pallida. This and the splendid /. 'pallida 



MIDSUMMER 



73 



dalmatica are the next to bloom ; the flowers are of 
two shades of clear pale-bluish lavender-lilac. 

Lis flavescens. The type, whose flowers are all of 
a clear pale yellow, I think a better plant than any of 
the varieties, though many of these are desii'able. 

Iris variegata. This family also has a yellow 
ground colour, stronger than in fiavescens ; a deeper 
coloured, all-yellow variety called 1. variegata aurea is 
a grand garden plant, and others, veined and clouded 
with crimson-brown on the broad lower petals, are 
highly desu-able. 

Iris amoRna has the upright petals always white, 
while the lower ones are veined or largely blotched 
with purple of various shades. 

Iris negleda. In this section the upright petals 
are lavender-coloured or grey-lavender, and the falling 
ones purple, or some shade of purple with white 
veining. 

Iris aphylla. These have all a white or nearly 
white ground throughout; the upright petals are 
strongly waved at the edge ; both these and the lower 
ones are beautifully pencilled with delicate colourings 
of tender bluish-lilac. 

Iris squalens. The children of this family may be 
known by either clearly-defined colouring of smoky 
bronze in the upright part of the flower, or some sus- 
picion of the same, while the lower petals are usually 
heavily veined and blotched with purple or brownish- 
red. Though some of the best gi-owers have of late 



74 HOME AND GARDEN 



years weeded their stocks of the varieties of lesser 
merit, there are still too many kinds, but among the 
best are Arnols, Bronze Beauty, La Prestigieuse, Rachel, 
Salar Jung, Van Gheertii, and Walneriana. 

The position of my garden, on a dry hill in the 
poorest soil, makes it impossible for me to grow the 
beautiful Japanese water-loving Irises (/. Icevigata). 
Others that would prefer a damp place if they might 
have it, such as the related kinds /. sibirica and /. 
orientalis, do fairly well, but do not attain more than 
half their proper height. An Iris that likes damp 
may be known, like many another water-loving plant, 
by a hollow reed-like stem. 

Many of these beautiful plants I cannot grow well 
for want of a stronger soil. Such are the fine varieties 
of the English and Spanish bulbous-rooted Irises; I 
specially regret being unable to grow with any degree 
of success the splendid Thunderbolt, a garden develop- 
ment of Iris lusitanica. It grows four feet high in 
rich strong soil ; its garden name fitly describes its 
lurid thunder-cloud-like colouring. 

Our two native Irises are both worthy of a place 
in the garden. Iris pseud-acorus, the Yellow Flag of 
our river banks, is a conspicuously beautiful plant, not 
only because of its bold growth and bright flower, but 
also because of the harmony of colouring between the 
full yellow of the bloom and the yellow-green of the 
foliage. The summer value of Ms fcetidissima consists 
chiefly in the handsome tufts of dark-green half- 




St. Bruno's Lily and London Pride. 



MIDSUMMER 



75 



polished leaves, but its time of beauty is from late 
autumn till mid-winter, when the large pods show the 
brilliant scarlet seeds. But as the heavy heads bend 
down and get splashed with earth, I cut them as soon 
as they burst open, for indoor winter decoration, first 
hanging them up stalk upwards in bunches, for the 
stems to dry and stiffen. The flowers, which are out 
in June, are small, and though curiously veined and 
coloured, and interesting to examine in the hand, are 
of no garden value. 

One of the happiest mixtures of plants it has ever 
been my good fortune to hit on is that of St. Bruno's 
Lily and London Pride, both at their best about the 
second week of June. The lovely little Mountain Lily 
— fit emblem of a pure-souled saint — stands upright 
with a royal grace of dignity, and bears with an air of 
modest pride its lovely milk-white bloom and abundant 
sheaves of narrow blue-green leaves. It is not a real 
Lily but an Aiithericum ; no plant, however, better 
deserves the Lily-name, that, when used in its broader 
significance, denotes some plant that bears bloom of 
Lily shape, and bears them so worthily that the name 
is in no danger of dishonour. 

The well-grown clumps of this beautiful plant (it 
is the large kind and nearly two feet high) are on a 
narrow westward-facing bank that slopes down to the 
lawn. The place would be in the full blaze of the late 
afternoon sun, but that it is kept shaded and cool by a 
large Spanish Chestnut whose bole is some ten yards 



76 



HOME AND GARDEN 



away. Between and among the little Lilies is a wide 
planting of London Pride, the best for beauty of bloom 
of its own branch of the large family of Saxifrage. 
Its healthy-looking rosettes of bright pale leaves and 
delicate clouds of faint pink bloom seem to me to set 
off the quite different way of growth of the Anthericum 
so as to display the very best that both can do, making 
me think of any two people whose minds are in such 
a happy state of mutual intelligence, that when talking 
together bright sparks of wit or wisdom flash from 
both, to the delight of the appreciative listener. The 
only other flower that bears its part in this pretty show 
is a cloudy mass of Venus's Navel wort (Omphalodes 
linifolia), showing near the right side of the plate. 
The whole picture is the better in that no other flowers 
are in sight. There is a near backing of small shrubs, 
Daphne and dwarf Rhododendrons, then a woody space 
in shadow, and sunlit copse beyond ; nothing to distract 
the eye from the easy grouping and charming tender- 
ness of . colour of the simple little summer flowers. 



Lilies and Cannas in the Tank-garden. 



CHAPTER VIII 

ROSES AND LILIES 

Apaet from their high place of standing in our gardens 
and in our hearts, the Rose and the Lily are, of all 
familiar flowers, the two that for many centuries have 
been given a special degree of prominent distinction in 
matters altogether outside the domain of horticulture. 
For throughout the history of the civilised world 
within the last thousand years, the Rose and the Lily 
occur again and again, in closest bond with the most 
vital of human interests, and always in association 
with something worthy of fame or glory, whether in 
religion, in politics, or as devices of honour carried 
on the shields of those found worthy to bear 
them. 

In our own history, the Rose of England and the 
Lilies of France, how often have they played their part, 
whether in the crimson field of blood or in the golden 
field of peaceful amity ! And though the Rose of 
England was not actually blazoned upon the shield 
of her kings, yet it has occurred so frequently among 
their badges that it is of distinct heraldic significance, 
and has stood for centuries as our national emblem. 
These two flowers may well be the badges of two noble 

77 



78 



HOME AND GARDEN 



nations, for, putting aside all lesser considerations as of 
use as a mere party emblem, the Lily stands for purity, 
for uprightness, for singleness of purpose. And the Rose, 
what does it typify ? Is not its beauty and sweetness, 
its bright wholesome gladness, a type of strength, of 
righteous purpose, and of bountiful beneficence ? Is it 
not a badge proper to the good knight, whose nature 
is strong and brave and tender, cheerful and courteous ; 
who goes forth to battle for the weak, to establish 
good rule in place of oppression; whose work is to 
" cleanse the land," to " clear the dark places and let 
in the law " ? 

And so throughout our gardens there are many 
plants which are not botanically either Roses or Lilies, 
but because they are beautiful, and have a form that 
somewhat recalls that of these two kinds of flowers, 
the words Rose and Lily, with some other, either de- 
scriptive or qualifying, make up their popular name. 
So we have Christmas Rose and Lenten Rose for the 
flowers of the Hellebore family that are so welcome 
from mid- winter to April ; Rock-Rose and Sun-Rose 
for Gistus and Helianthemurriy Guelder Rose for the 
white ball-flowers of the garden form of the Water- 
Elder, so good a shrub for many uses, not the least 
among these being as a wall-covering. For though it 
is absolutely hardy, it is right and reasonable to clothe 
our garden walls with whatever will make them look 
best, whether thoroughly hardy or not ; and beautiful 
as the Guelder Rose is as a flowering bush, I think it 




Guelder Rose and Garden Door. 



ROSES AND LILIES 



79 



better still on a wall ; moreover, for wall spaces with 
windy or cold exposures there can be nothing more 
suitable. The accompanying illustration shows how 
well it graces wall and doorway. 

Rose of Sharon is the popular name of the autumn- 
blooming shrubs of Syrian origin allied to Mallow and 
Hollyhock, botanically known as Hibiscus syraicus or 
Althcea frutex ; the names are synonymous. They 
are slightly tender, and do best against or near a wall, 
or in any case in a warm, sheltered place. All are 
pretty things, but among the later grown kinds there 
are two especially good, one a double white, the other 
of quite a good blue colour ; the type colour is a 
rather wild- mallow-like pink. 

The word Lily is still oftener used as a com- 
ponent of honour in the names of beautiful flowers 
both within and beyond the large botanical order of 
LUiacece. And when I am asked whether such a 
plant is really a Lily or not I cannot say, or how far 
beyond the actual genus Lilium our botanists would 
allow the name to be used. Nor indeed does the 
popular name concern them as botanists, for scien- 
tifically the botanical name only is wanted, though I 
am glad to know, having the good fortune to be on 
friendly terms with more than one learned botanist, 
that in the garden they seem to be more lovers of 
beautiful plants than scientists only, and talk about 
Primroses and Dafibdils, Roses and Lilies, just as I do 
myself. 



80 HOME AND GARDEN 



So among our popular Lily names we have Lily- 
of- the- Valley (Convallaria), St. Bruno's Lily (Antheri- 
cum), Arum Lily (Calla), African Lily (Agapanthus, 
one of the grandest of tub plants) ; Cape Lily {Crinum), 
splendid in its later developments ; Amazon Lily 
{Eucharis). Then there is the beautiful Belladonna 
Lily {Amaryllis), one of the noblest of pink-flowered 
plants and very sweet of scent. This lovely Lily is 
not often seen in gardens, but there is no difficulty if 
it is planted close to the outside of the south wall of 
a plant-house where it may have the benefit of some 
of the warmth of the pipes within. There is hardly a 
garden I go round that does not neglect the oppor- 
tunity of growing this grand thing. Scarborough 
Lily is the common name of the beautiful Vallota. 
Why this good plant is not so often grown as formerly 
I am unable to understand, for in my young days there 
was hardly a garden that had not some well-estab- 
lished pots of it, whereas now, though one sees a plant 
here and there, it is certainly much less frequent. 

The Lilies of France and the Lily of Florence are, 
of course, Irises, and indeed the beauty of this wonder- 
ful family entitles them to a place within the most 
exclusive aristocracy of flowers. 

How well the Lily name of honour is deserved by 
the white Water-Lily {Nymphoea alba), and its near rela- 
tions the coloured Water- Lilies of other countries, and 
the beautiful garden kinds that have been raised by 



The Cai'i-: Lily [Cn'mi/n, garden varif:ties). 



ROSES AND LILIES 



81 



the eminent French horticulturist, M. Latour-Marliac. 
To this gentleman's labours we owe a whole new 
range of lovely varieties of the highest garden value. 
Throughout the country our best amateurs are making 
ponds and tanks on purpose for their cultm^e, and 
some day I shall endeavour to point out how their 
use might be adapted to some of the most highly 
refined developments of formal or architectural 
gardening. 

And the true Lilies, the many lovely flowers com- 
prised within the botanical family of Lilium ; what 
would our gardens be without them ? Ever first and 
best comes the White Lily, emblem of spotless purity, 
and noblest and loveliest of garden flowers. 

To my great regret this grand Lily is almost im- 
possible to grow in my poor, hot soil, even in well- 
prepared beds. It thrives in chalk and nearly all rich 
loams, and I am full of a pardonable gardener's envy 
when I drive down into the clay lands of the neigh- 
bouring weald and see how it thrives in every cottage 
garden. 

It is not generally known that there are two dis- 
tinct forms of the White Lily ; one a far finer garden 
plant than the other. The better one has altogether 
larger flowers, with wide overlapping petals that are 
strongly ribbed and curled back. In the other the 
petals are narrower, and the whole flower, seen from 
the front, is thinner and flatter, and more star-shaped. 
Though the distinction seems of late to have been 

r 



82 



HOME AND GARDEN 



almost lost sight of, it was well known in the days 
of Queen Elizabeth, when Gerarde plainly describes 
and figures the two kinds, calling the star-shaped one 
the " White Lily of Constantinople." 

The only Lilies that do well in my poor soil are 
croceum, auratum, and tigrinum. Croceum is the early 
blooming Orange Lily that grows so well in London. 
It is the Herring-Lily of the Dutch, blooming at the 
time when the great catches of herrings take place. 
I have got into the way of thinking of it and talking 
of it as the Herring-Lily, and there are so many other 
Lilies of an orange colour that for the sake of distinct- 
ness the name seems worthy of general adoption. 
Like other Lilies long in cultivation, there are better 
and worse forms of it. The best one is a magnificent 
garden plant ; in my borders, when full-grown, the 
third year after planting, it is seven feet high; a 
sumptuous mass of the deepest orange colour. When 
the bloom is over, it is cut away, and there are still 
left the stems of handsome foliage in regular whorls. 
But as I have it in the flower-border in rather large 
patches, and as by the late summer the mass of 
foliage, though wholesome and handsome, is a little 
too large and deep in colour, I grow behind it the 
white Everlasting Pea, training the long flowering 
shoots over and among the Lily stems, with what 
seems to me the very happiest effect. 

In " Wood and Garden," I explained rather at 
length the way I thought best of arranging the se- 



ROSES AND LILIES 



83 



quence of colour in a large border of hardy flowers, 
namely, in a gradual progi-ession of colour-harmony in 
the case of the red and yellow flowers, whose numbers 
preponderate among those we have to choose from ; 
but saying that as far as my own understanding of 
the colour -requh-ements of flowers went, it was better 
to treat blues with contrasts rather than with har- 
monies. And I had observed, when at one point, 
from a little distance, I could see in company the 
pure deep orange of the Herring-Lilies {Lilium croceum) 
with the brilliant blue of some full-blue Delphiniums, 
how splendid, although audacious, the mixture was, 
and immediately noted it, so as to take full advan- 
tage of the observation when planting-time came. 
In the autumn, two of the large patches of Lilies 
were therefore taken up and grouped in front of, and 
partly among, the Delphiniums ; and even though 
neither had come to anything like full strength in 
the past summer (the first year after removal), yet 
I could see already how grandly they went together, 
and how well worth doing and recommending such 
a mixture was. The Delphiniums should be of a 
full deep-blue colour, not perhaps the very darkest, 
and not any with a purple shade. 

Tiger-Lilies also do well in well-prepared beds in 
my garden, the large variety " splendens " being the 
best and the tallest. Here they should be replanted 
at least every three years. By a poorer and smaller 
growth and an earlier yellowing of leaf, they show 



84 HOME AND GARDEN 



when they have exhausted the goodness of then' bed 
and want it renewed. They bear numbers of bulbils 
in the axils of the leaves that can be grown on, and 
come to flowering size in about five years. It is a 
valuable Lily, not only from its own beauty of free 
flower, black-spotted on salmon orange, of bold turn- 
cap shape, but because it is a true flower of autumn, 
blooming well into the third week of September. I 
always grow them in front of a yew hedge, the dark 
background of full, deep, low-toned green showing up 
their shape and colour to the fullest advantage. 

The only other Lily that I can depend on is 
Lilium auratum, I cannot afford to buy the home- 
grown bulbs that are so much the most trustworthy 
and satisfactory, but from time to time buy a case of 
imported ones, when they are to be had at about a 
pound a hundred, and take my chance. If I am lucky 
with bulbs and season they do fairly well. 

They are among Rhododendrons in beds of peat 
and old hot-bed stuff. If the bulbs do not rot and die 
outright, or if the young shoots are not eaten off by 
mice in the spring, they make a fair growth the first 
year, and increase in strength for some four or five 
years; after that they deteriorate. But by buying a 
case every two years, and picking out some of the best 
for pots and planting out the rest, I manage to keep 
up somewhat of an outdoor show. For some reason 
that those who know better than myself can perhaps 
explain, they flower over a very long period. The 




A Jar of China Roses, 



ROSES AND LILIES 



85 



earliest will bloom in the end of June, and the latest 
in October. 

One of the prettiest ways I have them is planted 
among groups of Bambusa metake ; in this way they 
scarcely want staking, and I always think look their 
very best. I was advised to do it by a friend who had 
seen them so grown in Japan, and I always feel grate- 
ful for the good advice when I see how delightfully 
they go together. 

This fine Lily, like some others, makes additional 
roots a little way up the stem. The roots thrown out 
by the bulb get to work first and prepare it for the 
effort of throwing up the flower stem. When this is a 
little way advanced, large hungry roots are thrown out 
from the stem itself, quite two inches above the bulb, 
This points to the need of deep planting, or better still, 
of planting first in a deep depression, and filling up 
later with a rich compost to such a depth as may 
leave these stem-roots well underground, for these are 
the roots that feed the flowers. 

The same way of having two storeys of roots is 
seen in some other plants of rapid and large growth, 
such as the great annual grasses of the Maize and 
Millet tribe. 

Roses are with us for six months out of the twelve ; 
as bushes large and small, as trim standards, as arbour 
and pergola coverings, as wall plants, as great natural 
fountains, and as far-reaching rambling growths rushing 
through thickets and up trees and tossing out their 



86 



HOME AND GARDEN 



flower-laden sprays from quite unexpected heights. 
But of all the Roses of the year I think there are 
none more truly welcome than those of autumn. 

The long-branching Teas, that one can cut of lavish 
length, and especially the Noisettes, are always faithful 
in the quantity and persistence of their autumn bloom. 
From the end of August to the end of September, 
sometimes even later, one can enjoy these lovely things 
in quantity. Most trusty of all is Climbing Aimee 
Vibert, with its wide-spread terminal clusters of 
charming warm-white flower and rose-edged bud. 
The flowers of Madame Alfred Carriere, another white 
Rose, are also in plenty ; large and loose and of a warm- 
white colour impossible to describe, but that may some- 
times be seen in some shell of delicate structure. No 
Rose of all the year is lovelier in water in a loose long- 
stalked bunch ; the pale polished leaves being also of 
much beauty. 

I have found it well to plant a number of such 
Roses for cutting, training them down to a slight fence- 
like support of post and rail ; bending them over all 
one way, so that the head of one comes far beyond the 
root of another. 

This kind of low training, like pegging down Roses 
over beds, has also the advantage of inciting them to 
bloom more freely, as they then form flowering shoots 
along a greater length of the stem. 

It should not be forgotten that some Roses are in 
fact evergreens ; retaining all or part of their foliage 





Autumn Roses. 



ROSES AND LILIES 



87 



throiigliout the winter. One would expect this in the 
rambling cluster Roses that have their origin in Rosa 
sempervirens, but I do not know what parentage accounts 
for the splendid winter leafage of that grand rambling 
Reine Olga de Wurtemburg, whose half-double flowers 
of a fine crimson colour, of great beauty in the half- 
opened bud state, gladden us throughout the summer, 
and whose large and healthy deep-green leaves, on 
yearling shoots fifteen feet long, remain in perfection 
till long after Christmas 



CHAPTER IX 



LARGE ROCK-GARDENS 

Though I have to be contented with an Alpine garden 
on a very small scale, I like to plan a large rock-garden 
in imagination. It is in the lower part of a steep hill- 
side, a little gorge or dell with its own stream and 
natural rock cropping out. At the desired spot I 
would build a pond-head across the dell, and following 
the indication of local stratification, I would arrange 
large masses of the natural stone so as to form a rocky- 
heading, with deep rifts well packed with soil for 
Ferns. The water would be led over this rocky head, 
which should be about twenty feet high, in various 
ways ; in one place by a clear fall into a deep pool, in 
others by shorter cascades and cunningly- contrived 
long slides of differing angles. How well I remember 
such places in the Alps, and how delightful it was to 
watch the different ways of the water. 

In one place there should be a splash on to a rock 
for the benefit of Ramondia and Soldanella and Saxi- 
fraga aizoides, that delight in nearness to water and 
a bath of spray. Excepting just these plants, I think 
I should let this region be devoted to Ferns, so as to 
give a simple picture of one thing at a time, and not 



LARGE ROCK-GARDENS 89 



even too many different kinds of Ferns, but in some 
long rocky rifts an abundance of Hart's-tongue, and in 
some half-dusky region at the foot of the rocky wall, 
so placed as to be reflected in a quiet backwater of the 
main pool, a goodly planting of the Lady Fern, and then 
some handsome tufts of Royal Fern. And in the 
margin of the pool I would only have, besides the 
Ferns, one or two native water-plants ; and of these 
the chosen ones would be the Water Plantain (Alisma) 
and the Flowering Rush (Butomtts), bearing in mind 
that the Ferns are to have the mastery. I am not 
even sure that it would not be better to have those 
spray-loving Alpines in some lower reach of the dell, if 
just the right place could be contrived for them, and 
to have Wall-Pennywort in their place in the greater 
rocky wall, in order to keep the place of rock and pool 
and Fern as quiet as possible, and to present one 
simple picture of rock and water, and restful delight of 
cool and beautiful foliage. And such a picture would 
also serve to show what could be done with our native 
plants and these alone. Some stretches of native 
Heaths, the pink Bell-Heather {Erica tetralix) and the 
white Irish Menziesia would not be out of place ; and 
in mossy beds such dainty things as Pyrola, Linncca, and 
Trientalis would do well, for while serving as delightful 
siu-prises of tender plant-beauty in detail, they would 
not be so conspicuous as to mar the unity of plan of 
the main picture as a whole. 

The path downward would lead out of this upper 



90 HOME AND GARDEN 



place through a planting of some kind of bushy- 
growth hiding the pool, of which the best I can think 
of would be Sea-Buckthorn, the native Bog-Myrtle, and 
the broad-leafed American kind — all again carpeted 
with native Heaths. This rather low-toned mass of 
bushes of dull colour and dry texture would be a good 
preparation for arrival at the Fern and water picture, 
and the sound of the water, more important here than 
in the trickling of the lower rills, would arouse a 
feeling of interest, and an anticipation of something 
pleasant and beautiful hidden beyond the bushy 
screen. 

I should wish that the ground above the glen on 
both sides should be wooded ; not with the largest 
forest trees, such as Beeches, but mainly with Birch 
and a good deal of Mountain Ash and Holly, Thorn 
and Juniper ; and some of these would be allowed to 
seed and spring up in the rocky banks, always watch^ 
ing how they came, and retaining or removing the 
seedlings so as best to suit the grouping of such a 
picture as may be intended. As the dell descends it 
should widen out until it dies away into nearly level 
ground, and as it flattens, the trees might fall into 
thinner groups, or be altogether absent if the ground 
were of Heath or pasture. 

But such a little planted valley might also well 
come down into the rougher part of the garden or 
shrub plantation or garden-orchard. Given the dell 
and the stream, an endless variety of simple pictures 



LARGE ROCK-GARDENS 



91 



could be made. By using native plants at the upper 
end, and then by degrees coming to plantings of 
foreign things best suited to wild ground, such as the 
white Wood Lily {Trillium) of Canada and the 
northern States of America, the wilder ground would 
pleasantly and imperceptibly jom hands with the 
garden, and would be without any of the painful 
shocks and sudden jolts that so often afflict the soul 
of the garden-artist on his journey round even well- 
ordered rockeries of the usual type. I venture to 
repeat my own firm conviction that this kind of 
gardening can only be done well and beautifully by a 
somewhat severe restraint in numbers of kinds. The 
eye and brain can only take in and enjoy two or three 
things at a time in any one garden picture. The 
lessons taught by nature all point to this ; indeed 
one thing at a time is best of all ; but as all natural 
or wild gardening is a compromise, the nature- 
lessons must be taken mainly as the setting forth of 
principles. If these • principles are well taken in, and 
digested and assimilated, we shall find no difficulty 
in rightly using that part of their teaching which 
bears upon gardening, and we shall see how to treat 
wild nature, not by slavish imitation, not by driving or 
forcibly shaping, but by methods that can hardly be 
described in detail, of coaxing and persuading into 
pictorial effect. 

The upper end of my little dell I suppose to be 
to the south, so that the rocky wall-head is always 



92 HOME AND GARDEN 



in shade, and as one comes do^vnward the right hand 
slope gets a good deal of sun from noon to the middle 
of the afternoon. The one on the left is nearly all 
in shadow, so that for such plants as do best entirely 
screened from the sun, a suitable place can easily be 
chosen or arranged. It would be important, in order 
to preserve a certain unity of elfect throughout the 
whole valley, that there should be a general groimd- 
work of certain plants from end to end. If it were a 
place of sand and peat, these plants should be the 
three common wild Heaths, Whortleberry, Gaultheria 
Shallon, and the Bog- Myrtles. Between and under 
these should be long stretches of common Mosses and 
Mossy Saxifrages. 

I would have everything planted in longish drifts, 
and above all things it should be planted geologically ; 
the length of the drift going with the natural stratifi- 
cation. In all free or half-wild garden planting, good 
and distinct effect (though apparent and enjoyable to 
every beholder, even though he may not perceive why 
it is right and good) is seldom planned or planted 
except by the garden artist who understands what is 
technically known as " drawing." But by planting 
with the natural lines of stratification we have only 
to follow the splendid drawing of Nature herself, and 
the picture cannot fail to come right. 

In the planting of my little valley I should be 
inclined to leave out some of the best-known moun- 
tain plants such as Arabis, Aubrietia, Alyssum, and 



LARGE ROCK-GARDENS 



93 



Ceraslium. These are so closely associated in our 
minds with garden use that they have in a way lost 
their suitability for places where we want to foster the 
illusion of being among pictures of wild nature. 

As the dell becomes shallower, the less sloping 
sides will want more careful planting. Here I would 
have on the cool side the bushy Androinedas and 
Vacciniums, remembering that some of the latter have 
an autumn leaf- colouring of splendid scarlet, and that 
therefore other bushes of like colouring would fittingly 
accompany them ; so that here might come the hardy 
Azaleas, thankful for a place where they have cool 
peat at the root, and passing shade as of not far distant 
Birches. 

The opposite side in full sun would be a happy 
home for the Cistuses ; the larger pictorial effects 
being made with bold plantings of C, ladaniferus and 
C. laitrifolius, and nearer the path C. florentinns, and 
the yellow-flowered Cistus formosios, which, though com- 
monly called a Cistus, is botanically a Heliantliermtm. 
Then the smaller yellow-flowered and more prostrate 
H. lialimifolium and the lesser Rock-Roses. In the 
most sun-baked spot I would have, on a rocky shelf 
and hanging over it, a wide planting of Barbary Rag- 
wort (Othonnopsis cJieirifolia), Lavender and Rosemary, 
and big bushes of Jerusalem Sage (Fhlomis fritticosa) 
and yellow Tree-Lupin, and the great Asphodel. It 
would suit the character of most of these plants to 
show between them some small stretches of bare sandy 



94 



HOME AND GARDEN 



soil and bare rock, varied with an undergrowth of the 
sun-loving Heaths, Lavender- Cotton, and the aromatic 
Artemisias, in wide plantings and long drifts, always 
faithfully following the run of the rocks. 

These plants and shrubs, among a good many 
others that might be employed in the same way, came 
first to mind because of a general likeness or harmony 
of leaf-colour ; for I should think it desirable, had it 
ever been my happiness to be able to plant such a 
large wild rock-garden, to avoid too great a mixture of 
quality of leaf- colour in the main masses. And just as 
it seemed the better plan in the shaded region of the 
upper pool to have a preponderance of the cool, fresh 
yellowish -green of Fern and Moss, so on the sun-baked 
rocky banks below I should try for a distinct picture of 
the greyish and low-toned blue-greens so prevalent 
among those herbs and bushy growths of the Mediter- 
ranean region, that are good enough to make them- 
selves at home in more northern latitudes. 

Though such a large half-wild rock-garden as I 
have attempted to sketch may only be possible to a 
very few among the great number of those who love 
rock-plants, such a more extensive view of its possi- 
bilities does not in the least degi-ee put one out of 
sympathy with the small rock-gardens now so abun- 
dant, and that give their owners so much pleasure. 
My own covers but a few square yards, but many are 
even smaller, and perhaps a little worse built and 



LARGE ROCK-GARDENS 95 



disfigured by labels, and yet I can heartily sympathise 
with all, for I consider that in dealing with these 
matters one must never forget, or be afraid to repeat 
by word or in writing, the plain fact that a pleasure 
garden is for the purpose of giving pleasure, and that 
though my own delight in a garden may be worked 
out in one way, yet other people may take their 
pleasure quite rightly in ways altogether different. 

It has always seemed to me that when there is a 
very small space to be dealt with, as in the gardens of 
hundreds of small villas in the suburbs of London and 
other large towns, that to lay it out as a rock-garden 
would be the best way of making the most of it. No 
doubt many clever owners of such houses have done 
it already, but others may not have thought of it, and 
though in a restricted area one cannot have large 
effects, yet there is no reason why one should not 
have well-designed ones, such as would be in perfect 
proportion and suitability of scale to the space at 
command ; while such a little garden would admit of 
a much greater variety of forms of plant beauty than 
could be appropriately used in any other way. 



CHAPTER X 



SMALL ROCK-GARDENS 

An artificial rockery is usually a bit of frankly simple 
make-believe. Nine times out of ten there is some- 
thing about it half funny, half pathetic, so innocent, 
so childish is its absolute failure to look like real 
rocky ground. And even if for a moment one suc- 
ceeds in cheating oneself into thinking that it is 
something like a bit of rocky nature, there is pretty 
sure to be the zinc label, with its stark figure and 
ghastly colouring, looking as if it were put there of 
cruel purpose for the more effectual shattering of the 
vain illusion. I suppose that of all metallic surfaces 
there is none so unlovely as that of zinc, and yet we 
stick upright strips of it among, and even in front of, 
some of the daintiest of our tiny plants. We spend 
thought and money, and still more money's-worth in 
time and labour, on making our little rocky terraces, 
and perhaps succeed in getting them into nice lines 
and planted with the choicest things, and then we 
peg it all over with zinc labels ! I am quite in 
sympathy with those who do not know their plants 
well enough to do without the labels ; I have passed 
through that stage myself, and there are many cases 

96 



SMALL ROCK-GARDENS 97 



where the label must be there. But I considered that 
in dressed ground or pure pleasure ground, where 
the object is some scheme of garden beauty, the 
label, even if it must be there, should never be 
seen. I felt this so keenly myself when I first had 
a piece of rock-garden that I hit upon a plan that 
can be confidently recommended : that of driving 
the ugly thing into the earth, leaving only just enough 
above ground to lay hold of. In this case also the 
zinc strip can be much shorter ; only enough length is 
wanted to write the name ; the writing with metallic 
ink also remains fresh longer in the damp ground, 
and shows clear when the peg is pulled up to be 
looked at. And then one finds out how seldom one 
really wants the label. In my own later practice, 
Avhere the number of different plants has been reduced 
to just those I like best and think most worthy of a 
place, they are so well known to me that their names 
are as familiar as those of my best friends ; and when 
I admit a new plant, if I cannot at once learn its 
name, it is purposely given a big ugly label as a self- 
inflicted penance that shall continue until such time 
as I can expiate by remembrance. 

I have two small rock-gardens, differently treated. 
The upper one leads from lawn to copse, and is made 
with a few simple parallel ridges of stone, clothed for 
the most part with small shrubs, such as Gaultheria 
and Alpine Rhododendron, with hardy Ferns, and 
groups of two or three plants of conspicuously hand- 

G 



98 HOME AND GARDEN 



some foliage, sucli as Saxifraga peltata and Rodgersia 
podophylla. The object of this one is to lead unob- 
trusively from lawn to copse, and at the same time 
to accommodate certain small shrubs and handsome 
plants with a place where they would do well, and 
where I should wish to see them. The other Uttle 
rock-garden, between the lower end of the lawn and a 
group of Oaks, has another purpose. It is absolutely 
artificial, and only pretends to be a suitable home for 
certain small plants that I love. A rock-garden takes 
a great deal of skilled labour, and I can only afford it 
my own, so that its size is limited to little more than 
I can work with my own hands and see with extremely 
short-sighted eyes. Four broad and shallow steps lead 
down to the path-level ; there is a long-shaped island 
in the middle, and sloping banks to right and left, all 
raised from the path by dry-walling from one to two 
feet high. The joints of the dry- walling are planted 
with small Ferns on the cool sides, and with Stonecrops 
and other dwarf sun-loving plants on the sides facing , 
south. The walling as it rises changes to rocky bank, 
with again a course or two of walling in the cooler face 
to suit some plantings of Ramondia and the rarer 
Hdberlea rhodopensis. The cool, sloping flats between 
are covered with Dryas cdopetala, and neat Alpines 
such as Hutchinsia and Cardamine trifoliata, and little 
meadows of Linncea horealis, Campanula puUa, Veronica 
prostrata, and V. satureioides, Linaria pallida and 
L. hepaticoefolia ; while in the joints of the stones and 



SMALL ROCK-GARDENS 99 



just below them are little Ferns, and in all vacant 
places tufts and sheets of mossy Saxifrage, coolest and 
freshest-looking of alpine herbage. These various 
members of the mossy branch of the great Saxifrage 
family are some of the most valuable of rock-garden 
plants, and in a small place like mine can be well 
employed to give some sort of feeling of unity to what 
Avould otherwise be only a piece of floral patchwork, 
especially if the plants and their mossy setting are 
placed as much as possible in long drifts rather than 
in compact patches. I think this principle is of so 
much importance that I shall not refrain from 
repeating it, for I have found it to be of value in all 
kinds of planting, whether of small or large plants in 
rockery or border, of Daffodils in copse or meadow, or 
of tree and shrub in larger spaces. 

For the effectual destruction of any pictorial 
effect in a rock-garden, no method of arrangement can 
be so successful as the one so very frequently seen, of 
little square or round enclosures of stones placed on 
end, with the plant inside conspicuously labelled. It 
always makes me think of cattle-pens in a market, 
and that the surrounding stones are placed prison- 
wise, less for the plant's comfort than for its forcible 
detention. And it leads to the stiffest and least in- 
teresting way of planting. If there are three plants 
they go in a triangle ; if four, in a square ; if five, in a 
square w^ith one in the middle, and so on. For even 
if a little rockery be avowedly artificial, as in many 



100 HOME AND GARDEN 



cases it must be, it is better tbat its details should be 
all easy and pretty, rather than stiff and awkward and 
unsightly. 

The sunny side of my small rock-garden has 
long groups of Othonnopsis, and the woolly-leaved Hiera- 
ceum villosum and Prophet-flower (Arnehia), and good 
stretches of Achillea umhellata and of Iris cristata, with- 
out doubt one of the loveliest among the smaller 
members of its beautiful family, and of the flowers 
that bloom in May. This little Iris is only five inches 
high, and the flowers are two and a half inches across, 
so that they look large for the whole size of the plant. 
When placed as it likes best, on a sunny rock-shelf in 
nearly pure leaf-mould, it shows its appreciation of 
kind treatment by free growth and abundance of bloom. 
The leaves, at blooming time only four inches high, 
though much taller afterwards, are in neat flat little 
sheaves of from three to five, one leaf always taking a 
prominent lead. The clear lilac-blue of the flower has 
a daintily-clean look that is very charming, and taken 
in the hand I always deHght in the delicate beauty of 
the raised and painted ornament of the lower petals. 
In the middle of the broadest part is a white pool with 
a strong purple edging ; the white turns to yellow, and 
runs in a lane an eighth of an inch wide down into 
the throat, between two little whitish rocky ridges. 
The yellow stripe is also decorated with a tiny raised 
serpent wi'iggling down its middle line, and with a few 
fine short strokes of reddish-brown. 



SMALL ROCK-GARDENS 



101 



Another great favourite, equally at home in sun or 
shade in the rock-walls, is Corydalis capnoides ; masses 
of feathery daintiness of warm white bloom and fern- 
like foliage. The flower is of the labiate form, charac- 
teristic of the Fumitory group. Its upper member 
rises from the pouch-hke spur in an admirable line of 
simple strength, and ends above in a narrow turned- 
back hood, whose outer edge is waved and bluntly- 
toothed in a way that gives an impression of the most 
deHcate decorative finish. The leaves are of the ten- 
derest yellow-green, and the aspect of the whole plant 
is so refined that it makes all the surrounding growths 
look coarsely built. 

In one corner of the rock-garden are two kinds of 
Violet, both good and worthy of their place, though 
both without scent. One is a white Dog- Violet, the 
white strikingly pure and bright. The leaves are of a 
very dark green, sometimes with a tinge of blackish- 
bronze ; two rather narrow upright petals stand up in 
a way that always reminds me of a frightened rabbit. 
The other is the splendid North American Viola 
cucullata. Its large round flowers, of a strong pure 
purple colour, nearly an inch and a half across, are on 
purplish stems from nine inches to a foot long. Where 
the lower petal leaves the small white eye there is a 
sharply-distinct veining of still darker purple. The 
size of the flower is all the more remarkable because 
it is a true Violet ; there is nothing of the Pansy about 
it. Pansy and Violet are, of course, closely related, 



102 HOME AND GARDEN 



but their characters are quite distinct ; and though, as 
a rough rule, Pansy is large and Violet small, yet there 
are many small true Pansies, and in this case there is 
one very large Violet. 

No rock-garden should be without Achillea um- 
hellata in fair plenty. Even out of flower it is one of 
the neatest of plants, with its silvery foliage so deeply 
cut that the leaves are almost like double combs, and 
its bountiful heads of milk-white flowers, whose centres, 
dusky at first, change to a dull nankeen colour as the 
bloom becomes perfect. There is no better plant for 
an informal edging, or for any alpine carpeting, in 
long pools or straight drifts ; it delights in a hot place, 
and, like many silvery-leaved plants, will bear a good 
deal of drought. 

I am very fond of the double Cuckoo-flower. It 
has such a clean, fresh look, and the doubling makes 
such a pretty round rose-shaped flower of each little 
bloom. The single wild one of the meadows is a 
pretty plant too, and sometimes grows so thickly that 
one understands how it came by its old English name 
of Lady's-smock ; for its close masses of whitish bloom 
might well remind one of linen wear laid out to bleach. 
Many years ago a dear old friend among our neigh- 
bours bought a plant of the double kind. Her meadow 
was already well stocked with the wild one, and she 
had the happy idea of planting the double one with it. 
In course of time it increased and spread over a large 
space, and was so pretty and pleasant to see that nearly 




Cuckoo-flower and Sandwort in the Rock Garden. 



SMALL ROCK-GARDENS 



103 



every spring I used to go on purpose to visit it. And 
one day, to niy great delight, I found among it one 
plant of a much deeper colour, quite a pretty and 
desirable variety from the type, that has proved a good 
garden plant. My friend Mr. George Paul, after grow- 
ing it for a season, thought so well of it that he took it 
to a meeting of the Royal Horticultural Society, where 
he received for it a notice of commendation ; this, with 
kindly courtesy, he was good enough to pass on to me, 
having given my name to the variety. The Cuckoo- 
flower has a curious way of increasing by dropping its 
leaflets; they root at the base, and it is easy to make 
a panful of cuttings in this way, dibbling in the leaf- 
lets, and pretty to see the spruce little plants that soon 
grow from them. It also makes httle plants, with 
roots and all complete, in the axils of the leaves on 
the lower part of the flower-stems after the bloom is 
over. These will drop off when mature, but as a good 
many perish under the natural conditions of my dry 
garden, I look out for them as soon as the roots are 
formed and grow them on in boxes till some wet day 
in July or August, when they can be safely planted 
out. 

There is a good group of this pretty plant at the 
cooler end of my small rock-garden, where a bit of 
dwarf dry- walling supports the raised sides. The wall- 
ing is here only a foot high, and is clothed with the 
little creeping Sandwort (Arenaria halearica). The two 
plants together make a pretty picture ; the Sandwort 



104 HOME AND GARDEN 



is rather the later of the two, but is already fairly well 
in flower before the bloom of the Cuckoo-flower is over. 
Nothing can be better than this little Arenaria for any 
cool place against stonework. A tuft or two planted 
at the foot in autumn will creep up and cover a good 
space of stony face in a short time. One has only to 
see that it does not cling on to plants as well as stones, 
for I have had it growing all over the surface of 
Bamondia leaves, only catching it just in time to 
prevent the Bamondia from being smothered. I am 
watching with some interest a little patch that has 
found a lodging in the middle of a spreading sheet of 
Linaria hepaticcefolia, another of the small irrepressibles. 
I want to see which of the two will have the mastery, 
as it is the habit of both to completely cover any space 
of ground or stonework they may be on. 

Any one who mshes to see silvery-green satin of the 
highest quality should look at the back of the leaves 
of Alchemilla alpina. Indeed the whole plant, though 
anything but showy, is full of what one may call 
interesting incident. I remember finding this out one 
hot afternoon, when after a hard morning's work I sat 
down, a good bit tired, on the lowest of the steps 
leading into the little rock-garden. Just under my 
hand was a tuft of this Lady's-Mantle, and half-lazily, 
and yet with a faint prick of the moral spur that urges 
me against complete idleness, I picked a leaf to have 
a good look at it, and then found how much, besides 
the well-known beauty of its satin back, there was to 



SMALL ROCK-GARDENS 105 



admire in it. The satin lining, as is plain to see, 
comes up and over the front edge of the leaf with 
a brightness that looks like polished silver against 
the dull green surface. The edge of each of the 
seven leaflets is plain for two-thirds of its length, and 
then breaks into saw-teeth, which increase in size, 
always silver-edged, till they reach the end and nearly 
meet. And at this point a surprise awaits one, for 
instead of the endmost jag, in the base of whose body 
the mid-rib dies away, being as one would expect the 
stoutest and largest, it is smaller than the two next 
on each side, so that the tip of the leaflet has a blunt 
and even depressed shape ; indeed the tips of the last 
five saw-teeth are nearly on a line and at a right angle 
to the mid-rib, and the middle one is always a little 
the lowest. Then there is another curious thing to 
notice, that, though not invariable, is so frequent as 
to seem to be a law in the plant's structure. The 
normal number of divisions in a full-sized leaf is seven, 
and they all join together with the exception of the 
first and last, at a distance of a quarter of an inch 
from their common insertion into the stalk. But in 
most cases either the first or the seventh leaflet has a 
sub-leaflet of its own, usually smaller, but sometimes 
nearly as large as itself, joined to it much further 
up, but with its own mid-rib and distinct system of 
veining. The heads of small green flowers set on 
lesser stalks that leave the main stem by springing 
out of a frilled collar half leaf half bract, are not 



106 HOME AND GARDEN 



exactly beautiful, but have a curious squareness of 
plan, still further accentuated by the four stamens 
also squarely planted at the inner angles of the petals. 
Close to the Lady's-Mantle, and also within hand- 
reach, is a frequent weed, but a weed so lovely that I 
let it be — the common Speedwell. I remember how 
delighted I was as a child when I found out for myself 
how the two lines of fur that run up the stalks between 
each pah' of leaves, changed sides with the next pair of 
leaves, and ran up the other sides, and how I used to 
think the little blue flower itself had something the look 
of a tiny Pansy. I suppose this impression arose from 
the veins gathering to the middle to a firmer depth of 
blue, and then giving place to a white eye. 

My little rock-garden is never without some stretches 
of the common Thrift, which I consider quite an indis- 
pensable plant. Its usefulness is not confined to the 
flowering season, for both before and after, the cushion- 
like growths of sober greenery are helpful in the way 
of giving an element of repose and quietude to a 
garden-space whose danger is always an inclination 
towards unrest and general fussiness. And it should 
bo cautiously placed with regard to the colour of the 
neighbouring flowers, for its own pink is of so low- 
toned a quality that pinks brighter and purer spoil it 
completely. I should say its best companions would 
be some of the plants of woolly foliage and whitish 
flower such as Cerastium or the mountain Cud-weeds. 



SMALL ROCK-GARDENS 107 



The flowering plants on this small rockery only 
extend as far as the hand can reach, for convenience 
of weeding and all requirements of easy access. 
Beyond this point is a permanent planting of small 
shrubs, mostly of the Alpine Rhododendrons. These 
Avere chosen as the main background for the little 
flowering plants, because they seemed just to have 
the desired qualities of a small, neat habit of growth, 
on a scale not unsuitable to that of the Alpines, a 
steady moderation of yearly increase, and a richness 
of deep colouring, highly becoming to the small bright 
things below them. Beyond them are Gaultherias 
which will grow a little higher, and then Hollies, so 
that the whole background of the dainty Alpine jewels 
will show as a richly-dark and somewhat sombre 
setting. But besides these dwarf Rhododendrons 
and the sweet-leaved R. myrtifolium, only a little 
larger in growth, there is also in the upper part of 
the rock-work a planting of the smaller Andromedas, 
with Gaultheria and Skimmia, and groups of Daiohne 
pontica, whose abundant yellow-green bloom fills the 
garden with fragrance in the early days of May. 
And planted with these, and running down among 
the flowers, is the white Menziesia, taking an equal 
place among flower and small shrub, and always 
delightful with its large white blooms of long ball- 
shape — just right for fairies' footballs — and its whole- 
some-looking foliage of a deep rich green. 



CHAPTER XI 

THE WORKSHOP 

From childhood I have always felt at home in a work- 
shop, and wherever I have lived there has always been 
some such delightful place. When my father gave 
up his London house, and for the sake of his young 
family made a home in the country, his always busy 
mind and well-developed mechanical genius found 
occupation in many branches of constructional in- 
genuity. His ability did not so nmch consist in 
working at a bench himself, as in planning and 
directing the handiwork of others. One of the 
ground-floor rooms he turned into a workshop, and 
for fourteen years a clever young engineer was a 
member of the household, and worked under his 
direction. During these years a number of working 
models were made, illustrating the principal types 
of steam motive poAver of the day. But the ones 
that gave us children the greatest pleasure were the 
marine engines of the little steam-ships that were 
also built in the workshop. We had two ponds, 
one of about four acres, and great was our delight 
to see the little steamers careering about in large 

108 



THE WORKSHOP 



109 



circles in its middle waters, and pujQ&ng away merrily- 
just like real live ships. 

In the village near us was a large smithy, and 
attached to it a small iron foundry. Here were 
made the castings for the various portions of the 
little engines, the wooden patterns being made at 
home ; then the castings, coming rough from the 
foundry, were worked up ready for fitting. Often 
some of us would go and watch the tapping of the 
molten metal, and well do I remember the feeling 
of mixed fear and delight when the white-hot stream 
came rushing out into the two-handled cauldron, that 
was quickly carried away by two men, who poured 
the terrible fluid into the black sand moulds. This 
was for the heavier castings wanted in the smith's 
business ; those for my father were of course very 
small, and mostly of brass and gun-metal. 

I remember one day at the foundry, when I was 
old enough to understand a joke — some of my father's 
were worth remembering — Smith (his name was Smith 
as well as his trade) had been telling him with some 
pride about a rather complicated set of castings he had 
lately turned out. My father, with the jolly twinkle 
that I used to like to see in his face, said : " Do you 
think you could cast a horoscope ? " Smith evidently 
did not know what a horoscope was, but being un- 
willing to make any confession of incompetence, he 
gave the guarded answer : " I think I could, sir, if you 
would provide me with a proper pattern." My father 



110 HOME AND GARDEN 



tlioiight that in this encounter the honours of war 
remained with Smith. 

One of three streams that flowed through the pro- 
perty had a good fall, and this was soon made use of 
to work a waterwheel and pump, to force up water for 
the house-supply ; indeed, I do not know which my 
father liked best, playing with water in every shape — 
he was also a good practical sailor — or experimenting 
with electricity. The days I am thinking of were 
five-and-forty years ago, when the science was then 
comparatively in its babyhood, and I have often 
thought how unbounded would have been his interest 
in its immense later growth, for his eager mind and 
strong intelligence were always on the bright lookout 
for every new development of practical science. 

However, such as electrical knowledge was in those 
days, he followed it closely, making fresh sets of 
apparatus as improved methods came into use. I 
remember how the earlier electrical generators were 
large glass barrel-shaped things, mounted horizontally, 
and scraped, as they were turned by a handle at the 
end, by a flap of black silk coated with a mercurial 
amalgam. Then there came a better machine in the 
form of a thick glass disc, but how the friction was 
obtained I now forget. My small fingers were often 
called in for the preparing of some of the humbler 
appliances ; for pasting zigzags of tinfoil upon sheets 
of glass, and painting sundry portions with the non- 
conducting sealing-wax varnish. Indeed, had I been 



THE WORKSHOP 



111 



asked at the age of ten, " What is electricity ? " I think 
I should have answered, " It is glass things and tinfoil, 
and red paint and little sparks." 

Electricity was a winter game, and others were 
magic lantern and fireworks, all from the home work- 
shop. I suppose the element of uncertainty always 
enters into the results of amateur pyrotechny ; but 
then the audience is not critical, and if in a shower 
of rockets some are eagerly restive, and others show 
a dilatory sulkiness that hinders the intended simul- 
taneity of the display, why nobody much minds, and 
there were positive shrieks of applause when a patriotic 
set-piece, reserved for the end, unfortunately placed 
wrong side before, but lighted at what should have 
been the right end, read " neeuQ eht evas doG " ! 

Then there was the little model theatre, an exact 
copy of Drury Lane in its old days. The opening of 
the proscenium was about two feet long by eighteen 
inches high. The proscenium and boxes adjoining it 
were exactly to scale, and decorated as in the theatre. 
It was originally used by Clarkson Stanfield to test 
the effect of scenery ; I have some of his little scenes 
now. The stage must have been nearly six feet deep, 
and the mechanical arrangements both above and 
below were all complete. It was worked from the two 
sides, which were open, and when we had a perform- 
ance a screen on each side hid the operators. My 
father got up little processions ; the Duke of Wel- 
lington's funeral was one of them, and later there 



112 HOME AND GARDEN 



were moving panoramas, of which the most successful 
was a journey m the Arctic regions, of which sub- 
ject the chief artist was a friend who had lately taken 
part in one of the Franklin search expeditions. 

So it was that the workshop was a kind of heaven 
of varied delights after the fixed restraints of the 
schoolroom hours, and indeed its many lessons were 
by no means an unworthy part of a child's education, 
for an early acquaintance with tools and materials and 
mechanism is a valuable possession in any one's life, 
making clear and therefore interesting so many 
matters that would otherwise be passed by unknown 
and unnoticed. And there is a distinct comfort in 
having a certain familiarity with the parts of an 
engine and their names and uses, so that one thinks 
with as little confusion and ambiguity of furnace and 
boiler, of cylinder, crank, and piston, as of the head, 
arms, and legs that belong to a body. 

And so in later years none of the lessons of the 
workshop have been lost ; indeed everything there 
learnt has been helpful both to direct practice and 
as a stepping-stone to further experience. The mere 
fact of having got over the early awkwardness of 
using a tool is a considerable gain ; an awkwardness 
whose degree a right-handed worker can hardly 
appreciate till he takes the tool in the left hand ; or 
let any handy needlewoman try how it feels to work 
^vith needle and thimble in the left. And as I think 
that a shred of my father's mantle may have fallen 



THE WORKSHOP 113 

upon his daughter, in that I have always taken much 
pleasure in working and seeing things grow under my 
hand, so I feel that the mecliauical part has come 
much easier because of the ever-busy workshop of the 
old home. And though I have never had occasion to 
make an engine, or fireworks, or scientific apparatus, 
yet the same teaching applies to the manual part of 
every handicraft, and of some of the fine arts. And as 
I have had to do with the fittmg-up and decorating of 
houses and the arrangement of gardens, so I have 
thought it a needful part of the business to have some 
practical understanding of all the means and methods, 
and I have never missed an opportunity of learning 
from good workmen, especially when I have passed a 
winter or some months in any one foreign place. The 
most consecutive of these slight apprenticeships was 
to a carver and gilder in Rome. An Italian who has 
" carver and gilder " over his shop really does carve and 
gild. The kindly 'padrone put me through a piece of 
work from beginning to end. First, the carving of the 
frame, then the successive coats of size and whitening, 
and the use of certain steel tools that complete the 
shaping of the forms and give the delicate finish. Then 
the coats of clear-size and bole of two kinds, and the 
floating on of the gold-leaf. For the work was water- 
gilding, a method far more complete and elaborate than 
oil-gilding, in that it admits of the valuable distinc- 
tion of the bright and dull surfaces, each having its 
distinctive preparation. 

H 



114 HOME AND GARDEN 



My master was an artist in his way, and of 
necessity ; for the drawing of the designs, sometimes 
special to suit some picture or set of room decorations, 
and the free modelHng of form in the plaster prepara- 
tion, had need be the Avork of an artist-craftsman. 
And he taught me to know which are the parts to be 
burnished, for there are regular rules and reasons for 
this, pointing it out on several frames and then 
bidding me show him on others, to see that the lesson 
was rightly learnt. And now, when in French or 
English or other work I see these rules ignored, and 
the wrong portions burnished, it always gives a false 
look to the work, for all such well-founded traditions 
should be carefully preserved. The one in question 
runs through all the best Italian decorative work, and 
surely no school of ornament ever attained to a height 
so satisfying to the beauty-loving eye as did that of 
those Italian decorators whose work was so closely 
bound up with that of the noble painters of the school 
of Venice. 

I would always rather have an Italian as an in- 
structor in a handicraft. He is so kindly and humanly 
helpful. English workmen in general (though I have 
met with some delightful exceptions) seem to have an 
idea that the amateur's practice may come into com- 
petition with their trade. Those who show this spirit 
can hardly know how hugely the compliment — evident 
though not intended — flatters the vanity of the ama- 
tem\ But though, for instance, I can use many tools 



THE WORKSHOP 



115 



in a rudimentary sort of way, if I have any piece of 
plain carpenter's work to do, other than the roughest 
trifle, I take it to a carpenter, because, though it is 
worth my while to have a general knowledge of how a 
thing is done, it is not the least worth my while, indeed 
it would be an absurd waste of time, to put it myself 
into practice. But the same class of operation that 
the skilled workman performs in doing any job of 
plain work may be applied to some piece of decoration 
that I wish to design and carry out, and that the car- 
penter cannot possibly do ; because, though every detail 
of manipulation he could do better than I, yet I, having 
a certain degree of training in the fine arts and he 
having none, he cannot, as it were, make the tool 
speak the same language. 

In many cases the result required of the trained 
workman is absolutely destructive of good effect. As 
one example, I think of the finishing of the large mass 
of silversmith's work, such as in all but the very best 
houses, is the only thing presented to the public. In 
nearly every case the brilliant polish of the burnisher, 
and the frosted surface given by the acid bath, are so 
much overdone, that no portion of the piece shows the 
true quality of a pure silver surface. 

But the cause that is most certainly destructive to 
artistic value is the passing of the piece through many 
hands, so that the finished article is not any one man's 
work, but only the lifeless product of the many depart- 
ments of a factory. This, in addition to a low standard 



116 



HOME AND GARDEN 



of design, is no doubt the chief cause of the poor 
quaHty of decorative value in the mass of jewellery 
and plate and the many so-called ornamental objects 
that are seen in shop windows. On the other hand, 
the work of the simplest Oriental jeweller has that 
precious quality of rightness of purpose and distinct 
human interest. It bears on its face the evidence of 
the one man's clear intention ; it tells its story as the 
work of a man's hand and not that of a machine, for 
he has beaten somewhat of his own soul and brain 
into the simply-'svTought object of gold or silver. For 
none of those mighty agencies of modern times, of 
steam machinery, of business calculation, of backing 
by money, can possibly stand in the place of that 
divine combination of artist and craftsman that alone 
can as surely bring forth the good work, as the union 
of soul and body jnust go to the making of the most 
perfect living being. 

Then there is a lovable quaUty about the actual 
tools. One feels so kindly to the thing that enables 
the hand to obey the brain. Moreover, one feels a 
good deal of respect for it ; without it brain and hand 
would be helpless. When the knife that has been in 
one's hand or one's pocket for years has its blade so 
much worn by constant sharpening that it can no 
longer be used, with what true regret does one put it 
aside, and how long it is before one can really make 
friends with the new one ! I do not think any work- 
man really likes a new tool. There is always some 



THE WORKSHOP 



117 



feeling about it as if something strange and unfamiliar 
and uncongenial, somewhat of the feeling that David 
had about Saul's armour. What an awkward thing a 
new spade is, how long and heavy and rough of handle ! 
And then how amiable it becomes when it is half 
worn, when the square corners that made the thrust 
so hard are ground away, when the whole blade has 
grown shorter, when the handle has gained that polish, 
the best poHsh of all, that comes of long hand-friction. 
No carpenter likes a new plane ; no house-painter likes 
a new brush. It is the same with tools as with clothes ; 
the familiar ease can only come of use and better 
acquaintance. I suppose no horse likes a new collar; 
I am quite sure I do not like new boots ! 

Some years ago I knew a young carpenter who was 
dying of consumption. I can never forget how he 
spoke of his tools. He had wife and children and a 
happy home, but when he spoke of what he knew was 
before him, it was the inanimate companions of his 
working hours that seemed most to bind him to his 
waning life. I remember his actual words : " It's not 
that I am afraid to die, but it's when I think of my 
tools I feel as if I couldn't bear to go." And it was 
only when he came to the word " tools " that his voice 
broke and his eyes filled with tears. 

Some of the tools that are the most precious are 
those that one has to make oneseh'. Chasing tools, for 
instance. For though some chasing tools may be bought, 
yet in working out delicate ornaments in gold and silver 



118 HOME AND GARDEN 



there is sure to arise some need for a special tool, and 
unless one has the luck to buy some good workman's 
old tools there is nothing for it but to make them. 
The more important tool shops sell blank lengths of good 
steel. The chaser buys these, and first shapes the tool 
and then hardens and tempers it. Tempering requires 
a good deal of practice. Chisels, gouges, and all tools 
for wood except saws are hard, and those for working 
metal necessarily soft, except files, which are very hard. 
But files are made of good steel, and when they are 
worn out are useful to " let down " and make into soft 
tools such as cold chisels. Some of the most delicate 
tools of the file tribe that are used in getting up small 
castings in gold and silver are only to be had in Paris ; 
their tiny teeth are hardly to be seen with the naked eye. 

The workshop has a large range of drawers occu- 
pying the greater space of one wall. Here are stores 
of materials; woods for inlay: box, ebony, lignum- 
vitse, satinwood, and others ; sheets of horn, ivory, bone, 
and tortoiseshell, slips of mother-o'-pearl and paliotus 
shell, and all the many materials and appliances 
wanted for various kinds of decorative work ; model- 
ling wax and tools, hard wax mixtures of various 
colours for rubbing into subjects engraved on wood, 
bone, and ivory ; collecticns of ornamental hinges, keys, 
handles, and various small fittings, both ancient and 
modern, frequently coming into use ; drawings, pat- 
terns, and stencils ; patterns and small pieces of various 
fabrics for reference in work of house decoration ; several 



THE WORKSHOP 



119 



drawers full of patterns for colour, and odds and ends 
of material too many to enumerate. Then there is a 
carpenter's bench with the usual wood screw, and at 
one end an engineer's vice, a tool chest, nests of drawers 
for nails, screws, and such small tackle, and a tall cup- 
board with many shelves holding handy long-shaped 
boxes like long di-awers, one for brad-awls, one for 
files, one for soldering gear, and many others for such- 
like subdivisions. A shelf runs all round the work- 
shop walls about eighteen inches below the ceiling, 
except where windows come, or where tall cupboards 
run up the whole height. On it is arranged a collec- 
tion of pottery, gathered out of many lands; thick- 
handled jugs and pitchers of southern France, large 
and bold and one may almost say luscious of form, 
and of rich though not gaudy colouring of green 
or orange glaze. Then there are several pieces of 
black ware from Spain, and from Spain also jugs 
and large dishes of a dull blue on dull white, a quiet 
colouring of excellent harmony. Swiss earthenware 
buff-glazed ; short upright jugs striped and spotted 
in many colourings ; soup-tureens and dishes decorated 
with the heraldic bears of Berne. Turkish and Arab 
pottery, mostly unglazed, and some pieces of Khabyle 
ware, curious because they are not formed on a wheel, 
but are laboriously built up by hand. One large 
piece is shaped irmch like a Roman amphora ; all are 
painted with buff and dull red and stripings of dull 
black. Then there are Italian wine-jugs inscribed 



120 HOME AND GARDEN 



with " Bevi molto," or some such encouraging legend ; 
tall hand-lamps of ancient pattern with double handles, 
and on the top the little pool for oil, with one or more 
lips for wicks. Here and there an old majolica drug- 
pot ; some decorated with a free arabesque only, but 
most with the addition of the arms of the family 
to whose private pharmacy they once belonged, also 
the name of the drug or preparation ; all painted with 
the most delightful freedom and the truest decorative 
feeling both for form and colour. 

The illustrations show a few pieces of embossed 
and chased work in silver, inlay, and embroidery. A 
necklace of blue Egyptian mummy-beads is shown in 
the upper picture, because the stringing of the beads 
was quite one of the most fidgety and difficult pieces 
of work I ever undertook; the only thing about it 
the workshop actually made was the heavy httle gold 
beads that show three together at the upper angles 
of the squares. The black stand holding a silver bowl 
is also one of the usual Oriental ones, not made at 
home. 

The small black figure in the same picture is 
PIGOT, the tutelary divinity of the workshop. " By 
the eyes of Pigot" is the most solemn and binding 
asseveration that can be uttered within its walls. 
Indeed it was from hearing this form of words used 
frequently by a friend that the idea of the personality 
of Pigot arose in my mind, and that his form took 
shape. His eyes, bland, passionless, mildly benevolent, 




Some 1'rouucts of the Workshop. 



TPIE WORKSHOP 



121 



but capable of flashes of scornful indignation when 
bad work is done or the glue-pot boils over, are of 
mother-o -pearl ; his spotless waistcoat (he has a scut 
to match) is of ermine. His necklace is of coral beads 
and little pink cowries; its middle ornament of silver, 
suggesting the form of a hand. All the joys and 
sorrows of the workshop are known to him ; his mild 
eyes beam in glad sympathy with the elation of success, 
and smile a kindly encouragement to weariness or the 
dejection of failure. All my best friends know Pigot, 
and never fail, on entering the workshop, to offer him 
a respectful salutation. 



CHAPTER XII 



THE KINSHIP OF COMMON TOOLS 

What a history they have — our common every-day 
tools ! The oldest and simplest I always think of as 
Anglo-Saxon tools — axe, adze, wedge, hammer, anvil, 
their names barely changed for a thousand years. No 
doubt many an old English house before the Conquest 
was built with axe and wedge alone, or perhaps with 
the addition of some simple kind of auger to make 
the holes for the pins. For the axe will fell the tree, 
and with the wedge will rend it into quarters, and 
then into rough planks ; and smaller trees, roughly 
squared, will serve for the framing and for rafters. 
The axe will also make the pins that hold the framing 
together, and the back of it will drive them. 

Saws and chisels must have come to us from 
France, with those fine old building monks, for their 
names are French ; and planes too, or some of the 
ways of using them, for the French for plane, robot, 
remains with us in the term " rabbeting," just as our 
clout nail is their clou and our vice their visse (a screw). 

Any one who has been accustomed to the use of 
many sorts of tools can hardly fail to notice a kind 
of relationship between them ; what one may call the 

122 



THE KINSHIP OF COMMON TOOLS 123 



comparative anatomy of implements, the most impor- 
tant of them being distinct evokitions from primary 
types. I suppose that the earhest tool is the hammer, 
and that next would come the axe. The axe grows 
naturally out of the hammer ; it is a hammer with 
a cutting blade, and the two of them are evidently 
the ancestors of the whole range of implements of 
the pick and mattock class. Nearly related is the 
hoe, and from the hoe comes the spade. Intermediate 
between these is the powerful cultivating tool that 
takes the place of the spade in many foreign countries, 
and I believe round the whole of the Mediterranean 
region. It is the short-handled hoe with the large, 
slightly curved, spade-like blade, used like a mattock. 
The only tool that in England is at all its equivalent 
is the " beck," or Canterbury hoe, but this, instead of 
having the undivided blade, has three flat prongs. 
The foreign tool is easier to use in the hard, dry earth 
of southern Europe, as it comes down and cleaves the 
ground with a heavy mattock stroke, whereas the 
spade goes in with a less powerful thrust, by the 
worker throwing his weight on it by his foot on its 
shoulder. It is interesting to note that the French 
shape of tool in our country should take its name 
from Canterbury, a place that has always had a large 
French population. 

Another tool-link with France is the Cornish 
shovel, the pelle of France and Italy, a long-handled 
shovel with ace-of-spadcs-shaped blade, only used in 



124 



HOME AND GARDEN 



England, as far as I am aware, in the extreme south- 
west ; the implement lingering as if in company with 
the racial relationship. We have the same word in 
the baker s peel, the long-handled wooden shovel used 
for taking the hot loaves from the oven. As this 
word is still in general use, it points to a wider use 
in former days of the foreign-shaped tool that, except 
in the one remote county, has given way to the 
short-handled shovel with wider blade. 

Then the hammer-axe family branches into all 
the smaller tools of the chopper class : hatchet, hand- 
bill, and butcher's cleaver, and from these come 
the reaping-hook or fag-hook, and the scythe. But 
the stroke of these harvesting tools is much lighter, 
for whereas the choppers are used with a hammer 
stroke, that of the fag-hook, and still more that of 
the scythe, have a light swing in it that seems to 
be allied to that of the axe, and perhaps has some 
relation to light strokes of sword and cutlass ; but as 
I am unacquainted with the use of these weapons, in 
their case I can only surmise. My impression is that 
the sword is used with a rather tighter grasp, whereas 
in many tools the tight grasp makes the stroke in- 
effective. I sometimes see a Avoman with a hammer 
held tight and short, making stiff and feeble dabs at 
a tin-tack ; but then, of course, the right knack can 
only come by practice. What a joy it is, after much 
trying, to catch the trick of a tool ! When it is 
known, its exercise becomes quite unconscious, and 



THE KINSHIP OF COMMON TOOLS 125 

could scarcely be described ; just as in riding, for 
instance, any one not accustomed to teach, could 
hardly say how the horse is made to do certain 
things. I could not say myself ; I could only say I 
wish him to do it and he does it. 

The stroke of axe and scythe have much in 
common ; in both the tool is swung far back to give 
it the chance of gathering the greatest amount of 
momentum ; in both the tall man with long arms 
has the advantage ; in both he throws his strength 
at exactly the right point into the tool, relaxing his 
hold to a slight guidance at precisely the right 
moment. In both the whole man is in strenuous 
action, man and tool one living thing. The English 
scythe is much longer than the continental tool, and 
has a slower, longer, lighter stroke ; the foreign one 
has a quick, short cut. In some foreign countries 
the scythe is not whetted with a stone, but the blade 
is drawn out to a keen cutting edge by being lightly 
hammered on a rounded stone, just as the blacksmith 
at home draws out the blunted points and edges of 
pick and mattock. 

A sight worth seeing is the felling of a tree by a 
man who is a thorough master of his axe; full of 
instruction in the use of a noble tool, of interesting 
incident, and of pictorial value ; the movements, 
though of full action, having a certain deliberation that 
stops short of violence. And it is good to see how he 
will make the tree fall exactly where he wishes. But 



126 



HOME AND GARDEN 



a inoAver at work is a still better picture, for not only 
are the movements of the labourer full of vigorous 
grace and beauty, but so are also the subtly-curving 
lines of the scythe and sneatlie ; while the splendid 
skill of the strong young man, often at work through- 
out the long daylight of middle June, makes light the 
lengthy hours of arduous toil. 

The action in another department of farm Avork, 
even though it be a digression in a chapter on tools, 
cannot be overlooked. It is that of the sower. His 
work is of still more ancient origin, and is even more 
rhythmical, and carries with it in a yet higher degree 
the sentiment of poetry of action. For all tool he has 
the seedlip of bent wood, the vessel that holds the seed. 
In older days, and as it seems to me more conveniently, 
the seed was held in a rough apron. Any one who has 
sown a field of grain, and has some feeling for the 
power of ordered motion, cannot fail to be struck by a 
kind of lulling sense caused by the repeated movement. 
The round sweep of the arm comes with the advance 
and planting of the left foot, the right going forward 
while the handful of grain is being gathered and the 
arm thrown out ready for the new cast. And though 
it is no light work to tramp over many acres of the 
new-turned furrows, yet the power of rhythm carries 
one along, and it is only at the end, when the task is 
done, that the tired body calls for rest. 

To come to indoor tools, the chisel may be con- 
sidered as the sub-head of a family whose ancestor 



THE KINSHIP OF COMMON TOOLS 127 



was the axe. Its function is to pare, to chop, driven 
by the mallet, and to rend. Its rending action is akin 
to that of the coarser wedge driven by the heavy two- 
handed mallet called the bittle. A plane is merely 
a chisel so set in a wooden block as to take a thin 
slice of wood, whose thickness can be regulated at will. 
A brad-awl is a small chisel used without mallet 
with a wriggling motion ; gimlets, augers, and centre- 
bits are revolving chisels, the two former having screw 
action. 

Saw, rasp, and file are nearly the same thing. A 
thin file, with teeth on its edge only, becomes a saw, 
while a saw with teeth on the flat as* well as the edge 
is a rasp. 



CHAPTER XIII 

CUT FLOWERS 

When cut flowers are to be sent a journey, it is a 
mistake to collect them in the early morning, and pack 
and send them off at once. This way is often recom- 
mended, but no one would follow it and do it on a 
large scale if the better way were known. The only 
flowers for which such treatment is suitable are Roses 
and Violets, and even those should be put in water for 
an hour or two before their journey. The better plan is 
to collect the flowers the afternoon or even the morning 
before they are to go ; to take them to a handy bench 
in a cool shed, look them carefully over, bunch them 
in sorts, and then stand them deep in pails of water. 
I use the common galvanised pails, and the small 
baths of the same kind for flowers with shorter stalks. 
As the smaller bunches would tumble about in the baths 
if they were not full, 1 stand in them three garden pots, 
w^hich make a convenient support. In a dozen pails 
and a dozen baths a large quantity of bunched flowers 
can be closely placed, to drink their fill till packing 
time arrives. Next morning, when they are packed, 
they are fresh and stiff and in the best possible state for 
travelling. I make an exception in the case of Roses 

128 



CUT FLOWERS 



129 



and Violets whenever it is possible, because, excepting 
Tea Roses, they last in a good state a shorter time than 
most flowers. That is why in a London shop a good 
bunch of Roses is never cheap, and it is also why un- 
scrupulous dealers have been known to doctor stale 
Violets with an artificial essence Avhen their natural 
sweetness is gone, and would soon be followed by the 
very unpleasant evidence of the earlier stages of decay. 
I should say that the very best way of packing Roses 
and Violets is to stand them in water for two 
hours after being cut and bunched, and to pack 
them in tins lined with any fresh leaves — Rhubarb, 
Cabbage, Lettuce, Spinach, Dock, or any leaves that 
are large and cool and succulent. There is a 
handsome Dock that I grow for this and other 
like purposes as well as for its merit as a plant of 
fine foliage; the Monks' Rhubarb (Eicmex alpinus). 
The leaves are large and tough and pliable ; they 
may be rolled up into a ball in the hand without 
being crushed ; they will tuck and fold most kindly 
into spaces and crevices in one's flower package, and 
no leaf is so useful for wrapping round a bundle of 
seedlings. I grow it in plenty near the packing-shed, 
so that a handy leaf is always at hand. 

Cut flowers, whether for home use or for preparing 
to go away, should never lie about before being put 
into water. Any one will see at once when it is 
pointed out, though many do not happen to think of 
it, that as the flower in water draws in the moisture 



130 HOME AND GARDEN 



chiefly at the cut end of the stalk, it is most important 
to keep that cut end in the clearest touch with the 
water. If it is left lying about for some time the cut 
dries up, and the water, if it reaches the flower at all 
by this end, reaches it only in such a way as liquid 
matter passes through a drain that is much clogged 
and nearly stopped. The surface of the stalk of most 
plants has a certain degree of feeble drinking power, 
but if the flower is to be given the best chance of 
enduring, the cut end must be a free inlet. 

Therefore, on receiving flowers after a journey, 
every stalk should be cut afresh, and cut only the 
instant before being placed in the water. When 
flowers arrive from the South of France or from any 
far distance, the stalks should be prepared with a long 
slanting cut, or be slit up in order to expose a larger 
surface to the water, and they should be plunged 
deep in the water, right up to the flower itself, and 
left all night. If the water is warm, so much the 
better. Even for an ordinary journey, many things 
must have such a deep bath, or even total immersion. 
Leaves of Artichoke, so grand in large decorations 
with long-stalked Oriental Poppy, or the taller of the 
Flag-leaved Irises, such as Pallida dalmatica, are 
plunged over-night in the garden tank. 

Flowers that have milky juice, such as Oriental 
and other Poppies, Stephanotis, and Physianthus, want 
special care. I have often been told that you cannot 
make these live in water, and unless treated with 



CUT FLOWERS 



131 



simple common sense you certainly can not. These 
flowers and some others have a fast-flowing milky juice 
that dries quickly and hardens over the cut as if it had 
been purposely sealed with a waterproof coating of 
india-rubber. Therefore, when I bunch up Oriental 
Poppies, the moment before the bunch is put into its 
deep pail, the ends are cut afresh, and the stalks are 
also sHt up two or three inches, and as the juice flows 
out they are plunged into the water, which washes it 
away. 

Lent Hellebores, whose white and dusky red flowers 
are so precious in March and early April, live excel- 
lently in water if their stalks are freshly cut and slit 
up rather high. If this is not done they fade at once. 
I had two letters one day in the end of March by the 
same post — one from a flower customer in London 
asking me not to send any more Lent Hellebores, as 
they would not live ; the other from a friend to whom 
I had sent some ten days before Avith instructions how 
to keep them. This letter said that they were still 
perfectly fresh, and that she saw no reason why they 
should not go on for a fortnight. And yet I always 
send a memorandum with the London flowers if any- 
thing goes that needs special care ; but I suppose that 
the many distractions of my always honoured but now 
rather carefully avoided birthplace stand in the way 
of the giving of attention to such small matters. Still 
it may be that such a flower as this, which, by the 
need of special care, shows its unwillingness to be 



132 HOME AND GARDEN 



parted from its parent plant, may be more impatient 
than some others of the artificial heating and 
atmospheric conditions of a London drawing-room. 

Flowers of trees and shrubs and everything hard- 
wooded, such as Lilacs, Guelder-Roses, Spiraeas, and 
Cluster-Roses, should always have the cut end so 
treated as to enable it to take up the water more 
readily. This is best done by slitting up the stem 
for some distance, or by the easier though rather 
less effective means of slicing one side, or tearing up 
a ribbon of the bark for an inch or two, but not 
removing it. I have done the same thing by crushing 
and opening the fibres of a woody stalk by hammer- 
ing the last two inches on an anvil. I do not venture 
to suggest this method of treatment for general adop- 
tion, because I know that a smith's anvil is not a 
usual item in the equipment of a London house, but 
mention it because it is a further illustration of the 
principle. 

When it comes to the actual packing, it should 
be remembered that it must be done as tightly as 
possible — the firmer the better, only just short of 
actual crushing. If flowers are at all loose, the 
joggling and vibration rub and abrade and distress 
and fatigue the flowers far more than would a well- 
packed journey of twice the length. " Pack tight and 
keep out the air " is the safest rule. Tin boxes are the 
best of all, and such boxes fitted with trays are much 
used in private places for sending flowers to London, 



general 



CUT FLOWERS 



133 



but their costliness unfits them for business purposes. 
Here we use the usual florist's wooden boxes with 
loose lids. A sheet of newspaper is spread on the 
bottom ; two sheets of thin paper laid out at the ends 
protect the flowers from contact with the rough 
surface of the inside of the box, and fold over the top 
of the flowers, or if the box is smaller, one sheet does 
the same work. These papers also help to keep out 
the air. The loose top is placed on, and the box is 
tied with one girth of Manilla cord which is fastened 
to it. 

Many are the handy ways of packing and sending 
single flowers by post for comparison or reference or 
other purpose. I find nothing more convenient than 
corrugated paper, and though I have quantities of all 
sorts of little boxes in store I much oftener use the 
ribbed paper, it is so easy to cut a piece to exactly 
fit the small parcel ; a little damp moss at the stalk 
end and a leaf of Monk's Rhubarb to envelop the 
whole, a little dry moss or crumpled paper near the 
flower to make the package the same thickness at 
both ends, then the ribbed paper rolled round and 
a wrapping of paper outside. A flower can be packed 
in this way with dry and damp moss and leaf and 
outside wi-apper, even without the corrugated paper, 
though the contents are much safer with it. The one 
thing I always avoid in packing flowers is the use 
of cotton-wool ; nothing absorbs moisture so quickly. 
Gardeners have it at hand for packing peaches, and 



134 



HOME AND GARDEN 



they also use it mercilessly in packing Orchids and 
Gardenias, Stephanotis and Camellias. It is much 
better in the case of these flowers to have some of the 
tin trays perforated with ranges of holes, and with 
twine and a packing-needle to sew down the flowers 
firmly to the bottom of the tray so that they cannot 
move. 

When garden flowers are scarce it is often de- 
sirable to bring home a bunch of wild flowers, but 
many seem unwilling to live in water. I have found 
that if the whole plant is pulled up by the root and 
a part of the root-stalk retained, it will live perfectly. 
The brilliant field Poppies do well like this, and 
some of the delicate umbelliferous plants that are 
so charming in bouquets of field flowers. Primroses 
are no trouble ; indeed I think the delicious wild 
Primrose must have some special quality of kindly 
sympathy with humanity, and particularly with chil- 
dren, and that it really likes to be gathered and 
brought into our houses ; for not only does it live 
well after being picked and carried home, but even 
bunches, long held tight in hot little hands, will 
flourish when released and put in water. But Wood 
Anemones protest against being picked, and come 
home limp and closed and looking very unhappy ; 
all the same they will recover if they have a complete 
bath for an hour or two, and all the quicker if they 
are pulled up with a bit of root. The most difficult 
to keep alive are some of the water plants, Horse-tail 



CUT FLOWERS 



135 



{Equisetum) and the tall Reed {Arundo Phragmites)^ 
but here again a bit of the base is a help as well as 
the slitting of the stems. In the case of Bamboos, 
after years of regret that I could not use them in 
decoration I have found out a way of making them 
live in water. It is by having some tall jar deep 
enough to immerse at least three joints, and by cutting 
notches in the upper part of each internode that 
will be under water so that the water flows in 
and fills each length. During the long and harmful 
drought of the late season, one of my clumps of 
Bamboo on a raised bank was showing signs of 
great distress for want of water. This seemed to be 
a good time to test this process, so before watering 
the Avhole clump I cut a few of its tall sprays, 
notched them, and put them in water. Looking at 
them an hour later I had the satisfaction of seeing 
that the drooping leaves, that were brought in looking 
Avithered, pale, and shrivelled, had risen and flattened 
out and regained their healthy colour. The tall 
water Reeds do well in the same way, and such 
treatment may be generally advised as suitable for 
the Eulalias or any of the giant grasses or other 
plants that have jointed, hollow stems. 

In room decoration with flowers, the old tight 
pudding-like arrangement of many flowers crammed 
together is happily no longer seen, and it is only in 
exceptional cases that the mistress of a house or her 
grown-up daughters have not cultivated their taste 



136 HOME AND GARDEN 



in some measure in the better ways of arranging them 
freely, with long stalks and plenty of foliage. 

One can hardly go wrong if a bunch of any one 
kind of flower is cut with long stalks and plenty of its 
own leafage, and especially if it is cut without carrying 
a basket. I cannot explain why it is, but have always 
observed that no intentional arrangement of flowers in 
the ordinary way gives an eff'ect so good as that of a 
bunch held easily in the hand as flower by flower is 
cut, and put in water without fresh arrangement. The 
only glimmer of a reason I can see for it is that they 
are cut of uneven lengths, and that the natural way of 
carrying them in the hand is with the stalks fairly 
even, and that this gives just that freedom of top out- 
line that is so much to be desired. In the case of 
small flowers, such as Lily-of-the- Valley and Violets, 
that are picked into a basket and afterwards tied in 
bunches, I find the uneven lengths of the stalks the 
greatest help in preventing unsightly stiffness. One 
has only to compare a bunch of long-stalked Czar 
Violets, with the ends of the differently-lengthed stems 
kept even, and a few leaves included in the bulk of the 
flowers, with a shop bunch of the usual pattern, the 
flowers tight and level, surrounded by a stiff collar 
of leaves, to see the merit of the free arrangement. 
When I do them for my own use, I take both flowers 
and leaves in the hand in this free way, and put them 
lightly, without tying, in one of those deep and heavy 
old cut-glass finger-bowls, such as were used on their 



CUT FLOWERS 



137 



grandly-polished mahogany dinner-tables by our great- 
graudi'athers : first standing inside the glass a smaller 
one, rather taller, to raise the middle blooms a little 
higher. 

In using bowls or anything that is broad, or in 
any way shallow in comparison with its width, it is 
well to make use of some of the many devices for 
helping to support the flowers. In a wide bowl one 
can arrange a smaller bowl inside, or any of the many 
articles of the jug tribe, gallipot or stoneware salt jar. 
Salt jars are capital, because they are heavy and rather 
tall. The folded strip of sheet-lead at the bottom, 
whose use is now generally understood, and of which a 
number should be kept handy, will make it all the 
heavier ; the better to counteract the inclination of a 
tallish spray to topple, and also to serve its intended 
purpose of catching and holding the end of the stalk. 
I have sometimes done a large china bowl of Roses by 
putting common flower-pots one inside the other, raising 
the inner and smaller ones by means of clean crocks 
of broken pots ; but the best way of all for a porcelain 
bowl that is in frequent use, is to have a slight wire 
frame made to fit loosely inside, with two floors of 
galvanised wire netting, the lower one half an inch from 
the bottom of the bowl, and the upper half an inch 
below the top. This one should bo shaped highest in 
the centre like an inverted saucer. Any ironmonger 
or tinsmith, or country blacksmith, would make such 
a " liner," and also prepare the sheet lead strips 1 1 or 



138 HOME AND GARDEN 



1 1 inch mde, and of different lengths according to the 
sizes of the jars they are to be used in. They are 
folded together S-wise and rather closely so as to leave 
continuous pairs of loops. Another handy device is 
to have pieces of galvanised wire netting of about a 
j-inch mesh, loosely crumpled into a vague ball-shape, 
such as will fill the lower half of the receptacle. The 
same kind of support may be given by twigs of Holly 
or Box, or of any close and stiffly- twigged shrub 
such as White-thorn or Black-thorn. Where nothing 
else was at hand I have used the dissected remnants 
of a worn-out birch broom. 

It is obvious that these ways of compelling the 
flowers to stand up can only be uced in non-transparent 
vessels ; none of them, except perhaps the green twigs, 
can be used in glass. But though glass things are in 
many ways the pleasantest and prettiest and cleanest to 
put our home flowers in, and though there is a certain 
satisfaction in seeing the stalks, and knowing that we 
can all the more readily come to the rescue by seeing 
the water becoming foul or low, yet in almost every 
house there are cherished flower - holders of other 
material than glass. Among those I have in constant 
use are bowls and jars of the ever-beautiful porcelains 
of China and Japan, English makes of Worcester and 
of the delicate cream-white earthenware of Wedgwood, 
old Italian majolica, glazed pottery from all Europe 
and some of Asia and Africa, Indian brass lotahs and 
large Dutch and Venetian pails and jugs and wine- 



CUT FLOWERS 



139 



coolers of beaten copper. Some of the latter are more 
generally used for pot-plants, but when flowers are 
large and in plenty, as at the times of Tulip and 
Rhododendron and Peony, the most roomy things 
one has are none too large. 

As in all matters of decoration, so also it should 
be borne in mind in the use of flowers indoors that 
one of the first and wholesomest laws is that of 
restraint and moderation. So great is the love of 
flowers nowadays, and so mischievous is the teach- 
ing of that hackneyed saying which holds that "you 
cannot have too much of a good thing," that people 
often fall into the error of having much too much of 
flowers and foliage in their rooms. There comes a 
point where the room becomes overloaded mth flowers 
and greenery. During the last few years I have 
seen many a drawing-room where it appeared to be 
less a room than a thicket. Where a good mass of 
greenery is wanted in a house, it is best kept in 
the hall or some place near the entrance, and even 
in quite a large room, one very large arrangement 
of foliage and flower will probably be enough, though 
of pot-plants in suitable receptacles and of smaller 
things of carefully arranged and disposed cut flowers 
it may take a large number. But it must be borne 
in mind that it can be easily overdone. And a 
watchful eye must be kept on greenhouse and stove, 
and the gardener must come into friendly consulta- 
tion as to the pot-plants that are brought in. Ferns 



140 HOME AND GARDEN 



are always safe ; the fresh green of well-grown pots 
of Maidenhair is delightful in any room, and they 
have a look of modest and well-dressed refinement 
that is always charming. A good supply should be 
at hand, so that each individual may only be kept 
for a few days in a heated room, and may be returned 
to the moister heat of the stove before the tender 
fronds are damaged by the warm, dry air of the 
room. Pteris trermda is one of the very best and 
handsomest of indoor Ferns and rather less impatient 
of dry air. 

To come back to the cut flowers, it is important 
to observe the way of growth of the flower in rela- 
tion to the thing that is to hold it. The illustration 
shows an attempt to carry out a simple arrangement 
of boughs of Lilac in an old Italian jug of bluish- 
white glazed earthenware. I tried to arrange the 
stiff branches not only in good proportion to the 
size and height of the jug, but also so that they 
should shoot upwards in the way suggested by the 
shallow flu tings of its upper part ; jug and flower being 
also chosen to go together because of the tender 
colour-harmony of the bluish glaze with the white 
of the Lilac-bloom. 

In the case of the spray of Rose-Bramble {Ruhus 
rosoefolius) shown at page 130, the far-leaning spray, 
showing the natural grace of growth, needed some 
weight to satisfy the eye in the matter of balance, 
and the round black-glazed pot, of a black that 



CUT FLOWERS 



141 



is sometimes grey-gi'een and sometimes brown-red, 
seemed not only to fulfil the physical need, bat tc 
be the exact colour-complement demanded by the 
delicate milk-white flower and pale soft leaves. 

This kind of study and practice may seem to some 
to be an unnecessary complication of Avhat many 
people may hold to be the very simple matter of 
putting flowers in water ; it will come naturally to 
those who have had some training in the fine arts, 
and have therefore acquired some critical power. It 
may moreover in itself be reckoned as valuable 
training in a domain that closely borders upon their 
infinitely greater one. For it demands that close ob- 
servation, and cultivation of the power of comparison, 
followed by exercise of judgment, that, even though 
at first unconscious, becomes ripened by constant 
repetition. The trained eye accepts the grouping of 
certain forms ; probably in its earlier stages of training 
some chance arrangements came well and were retained ; 
they were seen to be good, though the operator could 
scarcely say why; but later, the grouping is formed 
with deliberate intention, and the result can be lucidly 
demonstrated. 

The elaborate system of flower arrangement prac- 
tised by the Japanese shows firstly, and throughout, 
a recognition of beauty of line as the supreme law. 
It may be of one main line only, or of a grouping 
of several, but it is always there. It has become a 
fashion to attempt to imitate this system ; and among 



HOME AND GARDEN 



some successes at the hands of those who cannot be 
content with anything short of " good drawing " there 
are the many absurd faikires of those to whom it 
is nothing but sticking flowers and branches upright 
in shallow vessels, and whose only reason for doing 
it is because it is the fashion. Delightful and de- 
sirable as are the results of this kind of arrangement 
in the best hands, I cannot think that it will ever 
supersede, or even seriously compete with, the loose 
and free ways of using our famiUar garden flower^^. 
For one thing, to do it well, ample leisure and a quiet 
mind are needed, as well as mechanical dexterity 
and highly-trained eye, for it is like seriously com- 
posing a picture ; and in our case one whole group 
of motives that is absorbingly present to the mind 
of the Japanese decorator is absent, namely, those 
that have to do with traditional law and sjrmbolism. 
For, happily, we can pick a bunch of Primroses in 
the wood and put it in water without having to con- 
sider whether we have done it in such a way as to 
suggest a ship coming home or a matrimonial en- 
gagement in contemplation. I do not say this in 
any spirit of derision, for I gladly acknowledge how 
much we may learn from the Japanese in the way 
they insist on beauty of line ; but, at the same time, 
I cannot but rejoice that we are not hampered by 
other considerations than those that lead us to com- 
bine and place our flowers so as to be beautiful in 
themselves and fitting for our rooms. 



CUT FLOWERS 



143 



The room itself must be considered ; and though 
in most forms of decoration, both indoors and out, my 
own Uking and what knowledge I may have gained 
lead me to prefer using colour in harmonies rather 
than in contrasts, in the case of cut flowers I find 
in practice that I use as many of the one as of the 
other. 

If I may suggest a general rule, I should say, 
use warm colours (reds and yellows) in harmonies, 
and cold ones (blues and their alHes) in contrasts. 
But one must be content to be able to suggest in the 
vaguest way only when writing about colour, except 
in the case of a flower or substance whose colour is 
constant, for except by such reference no tint can be 
accurately described. It is very easy to say pink, but 
pink covers a wide range, from warm ash-colour to 
pale salmon-red, and from the tint of a new-born 
mushroom to that of an ancient brick. One might 
prepare a range of at least thirty tints — and this 
number could easily be multiplied — all of which 
might be called pink; with regard to some room, or 
object, or flower of any one kind of red, only a few 
of these will be in friendly accordance, a good number 
will be in deadly discord, and the remainder more 
or less out of relation. 

To give a few illustrations : if the walls and main 
furnishings of a room are blue, all pale yellow and 
warm-white and creamy-coloured flowers will do well, 
such as sulphur Hollyhocks and Iris flavescens, Evening 



144 HOME AND GARDEN 



Primrose and shrubby Spirsoas such as *S^. ariwfolia, 
S. Lindleyana ; and double Meadowsweet, and all pale 
yellowish-green foliage, as that of Maize and Funhia. 
If the room has walls of pale yellow or ivory-white, 
the colour of the flowers would be reversed, and 
one would use Delphiniums, pale and dark, avoiding 
those of purplish colour ; Clematis jlammula, and bowls 
of Forget-me-not. In a room with warm-white walls 
any colour of flowers does well, so long as they 
are kept to one range of colouring at a time. I 
do not say that colours may not be mixed, but it 
is best and easiest to bei^in with restriction in their 
number. In a white or neutral-coloured room, if a 
mixture is desired, the colours would be best in the 
simple mixtures as proposed in the case of flower 
and room colour, as blue and pale yellow flowers, or 
blue and warm-white with pale green foliage. 

In a red room, other than a rosy red, scarlet and 
yellow flowers have a fine eff"ect — Gladiolus, Tritovui, 
perennial Sunflowers, scarlet and yellow Dahlias ; these 
are also fine in a white-walled room. My house has 
the walls of all rooms plainly lime-whited, giving a 
white of delicately warm colour, and though at first 
I thought I should feel quite free to use all kinds of 
coloured flower-schemes in it, yet I find that the different 
rooms have their distinct preferences. For instance, 
the sitting-room, whose window curtains are of madder- 
dyed cloth, and whose other furniture is mostly covered 
with stuff" of a dull orange colour, likes to have the 



CUT FLOWERS 



145 



furniture colour repeated in its flowers, and is never so 
happily beflowered as with double orange Day-Lily or 
orange Herring-lilies {Lilium croceum), and with this 
it often insists on some bowls of purple flowers. This 
is where they show on the warm-white wall, away from 
the madder-dyed curtains, in combination with the cool 
grey-brown of the large oak beams and braces. 

The aspect of a room will also have much to do 
Avith the colours of the flowers that look well in it ; 
the same flower even, seen in a sun-lighted room of 
south aspect and in a northern one, the quality of 
whose lighting is largely affected by a blue sky, Avill 
appear to be of quite a different tone. 

It should also be remembered how the colour 
of flowers is affected by artificial light. There are 
some forms of electric light of the colder qualities 
that show colours almost as in daylight, but under 
all other forms of artificial light it is safest to use 
white, red, and yellow flowers mainly. Flowers of 
full blues and violets become dull and colourless ; 
in pale blues the purity is lost, while some reddish- 
purples show as a dull red. In all colourings of 
mauve and lilac the warm quality is increased, so 
that though purple flowers are best avoided for 
evening decoration, many kinds, such as the lighter 
and warmer-coloured of the Michaelmas Daisies, are 
very pretty and useful. Bright fresh greenery, such 
as the leaves of Funkia grandiflora and of forced 
Lily -of -the -Valley, are all the brighter under the 

K 



146 HOME AND GARDEN 



yellow light, and all reds and yellows are much 
intensified. 

As the summer advances, and larger things are 
to be had, the flower arrangements grow bolder. 
Tea-Roses and many of the free-growing kinds are 
cut three to four feet long. The Eryngiums are 
fine in a cut state, the bluish E. oliverianum group- 
ing delightfully with long branches of the white 
Everlasting Pea, while the still bolder and more 
silvery E. giganteum not only lives long in water, 
but is a handsome object if kept dry, lasting well 
for several months, and losing but little of its form 
and lustre. 

In the earlier part of the year, unless there is 
an old-established shrubbery to cut from, it is some- 
times difficult to find good greenery to go with 
flowers. In March I make a good deal of use of 
the leaves of the wild Arum, so abundant in hedges, 
pulling up the whole sheaf of leaves and preparing 
it by standing it deep in water. It goes capitally 
with Trumpet Daffodils. The later Dafibdils look 
well with leafy twigs of Birch, which comes just in 
time to accompany them ; and later still, in the end 
of April and beginning of May, Poet's Narcissus and 
Sweet-brier branches go happily together. 

Many of the flowers of May and June — Lilac, 
Guelder-Rose, Rhododendron, and Pteony — are well 
furnished with their own greenery, and from then 
onwards there is plenty to choose from. Still for 




Eryngium and White EvEKLASTiNf. Tea. 



CUT FLOWERS 



147 



autumn I find it useful to have a line or patch of 
one of the maize-like Sorghums or Millets ; the one 
I use is the Sorgho d halais of the French. If when 
half grown the main stem is cut out, it branches 
into a number of side shoots, good to group with 
Gladiolus, or to weathe about with the white clusters 
of the late-blooming Clematis flammula of September 
and the still finer C. paniculata of October. 

And Avith late autumn what a wealth of beauti- 
fully-coloured foliage there is to choose from, both in 
the garden and in the wood ; of Vine and Virginia 
Creeper and Scarlet Oak; of yellowing Beech and 
ruddy Bramble and Guelder-Rose ; the single Guelder- 
Rose grand with berry also. Bosa hicida, always one 
of the best of Roses for clumps and bushes in any 
shrubbery spaces, is brilliant in late autumn with 
the red and yellow of its foliage and the abundant 
clusters of its ripe scarlet fruit. 

Even in middle winter one can make green foliage 
groups without flowers that are Avorthy room -orna- 
ments, for there are always sprays of green Ivy to be 
found and fronds of Hart's-tongue and Polypody Ferns, 
and in woodland places where scrub Oak was cut down 
last winter the yearling shoots bear their large green 
leaves far into the next, giving us a handsome 
type of deciduous leafage otherwise not to be had. 
Sprays of Oak are of value also early in the year, for 
some bear small strongly waved leaves of a golden 
green in May and June, while for bowls of Tea-Roses 



148 



HOME AND GARDEN 



in late summer no leaf-accompaniment that I can think 
of is better than the young summer shoots of Oak, 
richly beautiful in their " subdued splendour " of 
crimson and red and russet-bronze. 

Some 3^ears ago, seeing that there was a want of 
flower-glasses of simple shape that would hold plenty 
of water and would be moderate in price, I made 
some designs which were taken up by a large firm 
in the glass and china trade, Messrs. James Green & 
Nephew, 107 Queen Victoria Street. Their " Mun- 
stead " glasses made from these designs are already 
widely known, but I am still so often asked for the 
address that I give it here. They have a pattern 
sheet that gives all particulars : the most useful shapes 
are shown in the illustration opposite page 194. 



Midwinter — Polypody and Ivy. 




MiDSUMMKR— Chinese Peonies. 



CHAPTEE XIV 

CONSERVATORIES 

The gardeners in private places often spoil their plants 
by overdoing the size. It is no doubt tempting to 
a man who is a good cultivator to push the cultiva- 
tion on to its utmost possibility, but it is easy to 
go beyond the bounds of beauty, and to get a coarse 
look. The plants are in perfect health, but are fed 
up so that they have that over-fat look of prize 
beasts at a show. Besides Chrysanthemums, the 
plants that gardeners favour most in this way are 
Calceolarias of the show sorts, Cinerarias, and Begonias. 
Often, in conservatories and drawing-rooms, I think 
how pretty that plant would be if the flowers were 
only a little smaller ; not that I ever think these 
Calceolarias and Cinerarias are good room plants ; 
they have no natural grace or refinement, and except 
in the case of the clear blue and the white, the range 
of colouring of the Cinerarias is of a coarse and un- 
pleasant character. Begonia metallica is one of my 
favourites among room plants. It makes a plant of 
fine size, and is full of the truest beauty and refine- 
ment, both of flower and leaf. 

How seldom does one see a conservatory arranged 

149 



150 HOME AND GARDEN 



with good taste. The usual thing is a crowded mass 
of incongruous flowering plants ; just anything that 
happens to be in bloom in the plant-houses ; and 
they are arranged so as to bring the bloom all to 
one even surface, sloping up from front to back. It 
looks as if the largest amount of material was used 
in order to produce the least effect, for the quantity 
of ill-assorted flowers brought together without design 
is sure to prevent the full enjoyment of the beauty 
of any. 

This is already generally understood in the case 
of cut flowers for room decoration, where we no longer 
see the old mixture of all sorts of flowers tightly 
crammed together, but, on the contrary, simple 
arrangements in good taste of fewer flowers ; or more 
often of one sort only at a time, with a suitable 
quantity of good foliage. One may often see this in 
the drawing-room, while the old kind of muddle is 
in full force in the adjoining conservatory ; whereas 
if the better system were also practised here, the 
beauty of the place would be increased tenfold, while 
the number of flowering plants required would be 
reduced to at most a quarter. 

The first thing in a well-arranged conservatory 
is to have plenty of handsome foliage. Nothing can 
surpass the utility of Aspidistra, and for massing, the 
green is better than the variegated. Aralias of dif- 
ferent sizes should be fairly plentiful, and Arums 
whether in flower or not. Funkia grandiflom, potted 



CONSEKVATORIES 



151 



in early autumn, will be in grand foliage by February, 
and no plant gives better green in the conservatory. 
These and a few Ferns, of which Pteris tremida should 
be one, should be in quantities large enough to make 
some bold effects of good greenery, among which the 
flowering plants should be introduced in groups of 
a few pots of the same, or single pots, according to 
the nature of the plant. No one who has ever seen 
a conservatory arranged in this way, with due regard 
to good colouring, will ever wish to go back to the 
old muddled mixture. 

I often think, when I go round the gardens of 
some great place, and see evidence of the money 
that is expended in structures and labour, in culti- 
vation and maintenance, how all the best service 
that the indoor plants might render is absolutely 
wasted. It is like keeping sixty horses in a stable 
with all the needful staff and equipment, and never 
having them out for riding or driving. For though 
there is a certain pleasure in going round greenhouse 
and stove and Orchid and Fern houses, and seeing the 
individual plants, it is after all only like going round 
and seeing the horses in the stable ; and though this 
also is very pleasant, one expects something more 
of the horses. So also I expect more of the plants ; 
and though a certain number are saddled and brought 
round for dining-room table and drawing-room orna- 
ment, yet by far the larger number remain in their 
stalls " eating their heads off," unless they are driven 



152 



HOME AND GARDEN 



into the conservatory to bite and kick each other in 
the usual huddled crowd. 

I do not venture to say that a better use of 
indoor plants is never made ; indeed I know that 
in the case of places where the owners are people 
of taste a much better state of things exists. But 
these bright exceptions are lamentably rare, and I 
do not think I am exaggerating when I estimate that 
out of every hundred collections of stove and green- 
house plants there are scarcely three in which any 
serious attempt is made to use them for the enjoy- 
ment of well- arranged beauty. And it is not fair to 
expect the ordinary gardener to be able to do it. 
The guiding motives of such arrangements (unless he 
be a man of exceptional gifts) are beyond his reach 
of apprehension, and he cannot be expected to have 
received the refined education of the highest order, 
which can alone form the foundation on which such 
motives are built. 

I take pleasure in picturing to myself various 
forms of pleasant winter gardens ; of places where 
there shall be no discordant note of obtrusive staging 
or gaudy tile or blue-white paint, or any ostenta- 
tious or unseemly elaboration ; but where beautiful 
flowers and foliage should hold their own in undisputed 
possession. What groupings I would have of tropical 
Ferns and Orchids, overshadowed by great groups of 
Bananas, and how much better to give the needed 
shade by means of Bananas or tall Tree Ferns than 



CONSERVATORIES 



153 



by an artificial shading only. The artificial shading 
may be wanted as well, but the living leafage is more 
pictorially satisfactory as a means of representing the 
subdued light of a tropical forest. 

And winter gardens so arranged as to give some 
such illusion during the five dull months of our 
northern climate are undoubtedly desirable, and for 
the best enjoyment of plants should be arranged in 
a free, informal manner. 

There is another class of structure, such as the 
large Orangeries attached to old houses of the palatial 
class, that would demand more formal treatment, 
because the buildings themselves have a distinct 
architectural value that should be not only recognised 
but intentionally emphasised. These are nearly all 
on the same general plan, with one blank wall at 
the back and one main face pierced with large lights 
often with arched heads, and between them impor- 
tant pilasters that carry the cornice. And often 
this face was designed in relation to the adjoining 
parterre, for its original purpose was that it should 
be a place for storing the large boxes or tubs of 
tender trees, such as Oranges or Oleanders, that would 
stand out on the terraces in summer. 

The modern greenhouse, on the other hand, is a 
thing so hopelessly ugly that I consider it should 
never intrude into dressed ground or be visible from it. 
Any attempt at so-called ornament, of turned finials 
or florid cast-iron ridges, only makes matters worse. 



154 HOME AND GARDEN 



as these things are never well designed, and only 
serve to draw attention to what is already sufficiently 
unsightly. If it is already there, and cannot be 
screened by plantation or any other device, the best 
thing is to paint it some quiet colour such as what 
painters call Portland-stone colour, made of brown and 
black mixed with white-lead. 

If I were designing a large range of glass 
houses and could " have my head," I would lay it 
out as a walled enclosure of say half an acre. 
From outside, nothing would be seen but the high 
wall or some suitable treatment of it. The houses 
for show would range all round inside for a width 
of some twenty-five feet; the inner space would be 
for the growing or service houses. The southern 
side of the glass-garden wall would be in connection 
with the pleasure garden, and if the wish of the 
owner was for a good piece of formal gardening, 
the wall might well be treated as the back of a 
cloistered loggia. On the northern face of the 
enclosure outside would be the potting shed, 
furnaces, &c. One Avould enter through the 
nuddlo of the cloistered wall into a space where 
in winter would be placed the tubs of Orange, 
Myrtle, Oleander, and white Datura that would 
stand out of doors in summer. In shape and 
area this might be a double square of fifty by 
twenty-five feet. Opposite the entrance would be 



CONSERVATORIES 



155 



a walled passage ten feet wide, with glass roof, 
passing right across the enclosed space from entrance 
to potting-sheds, and giving covered access to all the 
service houses. It would have a flagged walk, and 
borders against the walls for Camellias, Heliotrope, 
Myrtle, Dcfphne indica, Carpenteria^ Clematis indivisa, 
the double white Rubus roscefolius, and many another 
good thing that only wants winter protection. The 
glass lights of the roof should be taken off in 
summer. 

To return to the entrance enclosure, there would 
be partitions right and left leading into large 
" temperate " spaces. Entering the one on the left 
there would be some main arrangement of noble 
foliage of Banana, Orange, Lemon, and white Datura, 
and of lesser growths of the dwarf Palm of the 
Mediterranean region, and Maidenhair and other 
Ferns. All these would be planted and gi'owing in 
the ground ; both main groups and ground-covering 
being so disposed that between and among the per- 
manent plantings, pots of flowering things could be 
brought in and arranged in wide groupings. 

The further enclosures would advance through an 
intermediate temperature to that of the " stove." The 
same principle of arrangement would run through all, 
of main groups of large foliage, and of beautiful 
ground- work, both planted. In the warmer houses, 
and perhaps in a lesser degi-ee in the temperate 
region, the wall would in places be the background of 



156 



HOME AND GARDEN 



an arrangement of rockwork for the better planting 
of Ferns, and temporary placing of Orchids and other 
plants on rocky shelves and niches hidden by the 
growing greenery. 

So many are the lovely kinds of tropical Orchids 
that it would be difficult to make a small enough 
selection, but it would include some of the noble 
Cattleyas whose magnificent blooms show all that is 
best in purple and lilac colourings ; the best forms of 
the free-flowering Cselogyne of tenderest white ; the 
splendid orange, yellow, and buif of Dendrobium ; 
some long wreaths of brown and yellow Odontoglossum, 
leopard-spotted and tiger-striped ; the tender white- 
shaded rosiness of Lycaste ; the thick ivory-white of 
Angrsecum, a flower of singular nobility, coming in 
the deadest of the winter months ; and the stately 
Phaius, with its dignified upright bearing, large hand- 
some leaves, and immense spikes of flower of white 
and pink and rosy-brown. 

In my tropical houses, as everywhere else, the aim 
would be to have the most beautiful plants beautifully 
arranged. Nothing would be admitted merely because 
it was curious or rare or costly. There should be no 
unbeautiful audacities like Anthuriuin, no evil little 
curiosities such as Stapelia, no insignificant plants of 
unworthy price, such as people crowd to look at at 
shows because they are valued at a hundred guineas ; 
none of the usual commonplace unworthinesses, as 
of houses full of the coarse nettle-like Coleus, most 



CONSERVATORIES 



157 



of them of shocking colour ; of hundreds of pots 
of Calceolaria and Cineraria ; no stove half full of 
uninteresting Acliimenes, a family of plants I confess 
to disliking ; without grace or beauty of form, in 
colour either washy or distinctly displeasing, and 
needing to be tied up to an infinity of small sticks. 
Indeed, except for the red velvet leaf of Gesnera 
exoniensis, sumptuous under lamp-light, and the fine 
colour of one or two Tydseas, I am altogether shy of 
gesneraceous plants. 

But I would have ropes and swags of the scarlet 
Passion-flower (P. racemosa), and plenty of that goodly 
white-flowered company, Stephanotis and Gardenia and 
Eucharis and Pancratium, and the glowing Hibismis 
rosa-sinensis, and the great yellow Allamanda, And 
with them the large-flowered Oriental Jasmines, and 
quantities of fresh -colom-ed tender foliage of the 
beautiful Ferns of the tropics. Here, as in every 
other part of the garden, I would avoid the usual 
weary inharmonious mixture ; I would fight against 
the mental slothfulness of easy heterogeneous 
agglomeration, and steadfastly resist the common 
and irritating jumble of all kinds of irreconcilable 
forms of vegetation. Even of distinctly beautiful 
plants there are nearly always too many sorts 
brought together. Of such things as Croton and 
Caladium and Begonia Rex, a dozen plants of one 
kind of each will make a handsome group, and two 
dozen a still better one, while twelve or twenty-four 



158 HOME AND GARDEN 



all different, can only make a group of no merit 
from a pictorial point of view. And though I 
advise this temperate use of plants as a general 
principle, I do not presume to lay it down as a law. 
For it is just in occasional or even frequent excep- 
tions in the practice of such treatment that the 
garden artist can best use his knowledge. Though 
nine plants out of ten may no doubt be best used 
in liberal groupings, yet every now and then one 
comes upon something that looks best as a single 
object, and often in the large groups of one kind 
of plant there comes a point where it is desirable 
to make some slight variation ; for though to make a 
good effect there must be moderation and simplicity, 
we do not want monotony. In arranging a group 
of say two dozen Caladiums, there may occur some 
place where it is desirable to have two or three 
whose leaves have some slight difference of colour- 
ing or variegation, and a few more may need to be 
quite detached from the main group though still 
in relation to it. Some incident or circumstance 
belonging to the environment may demand the ex- 
ceptional treatment ; it is perceived almost uncon- 
sciously, the plants are duly placed, and the picture 
comes right. 

The service houses in the middle space would 
grow good things in quantity for all the tempera- 
tures, both of Ferns and other beautiful greenery, 
and of flowering plants : Orchid, Gloxinia, Begonia, 



r 

CONSERVATORIES 159 

Azalea indica, Pelargonium, Primula, Cyclamen, 
Streptocarpus, Hippeastrum, Vallota, Chrysanthe- 
mum, and Canna. Then all the best of the bulbs 
that force well : Tulip, Hyacinth, Narcissus, Nerine, 
Freesia, Lachenalia ; and successions of Mignonette 
and Lily-of-the-Valley, and those of our hardy 
plants that will bear a little forcing like hardy 
Azalea and Solomon's Seal and Funkia. What a 
pleasure it would be to go to the service houses 
and choose the plants for the making of the pic- 
tures, gathering them together by sorts on a low 
trolley, where ah'eady one could see at a glance 
that the plants for each group would go well to- 
gether for colour ; and what a satisfaction it would 
be to be able to show the well-arranged plant- 
pictures, and how helpful to both employers and 
gardeners ! 

I have only attempted to give a very slight 
sketch of what might be done in an important 
range of such houses, but I think it desirable to 
get out of the beaten track not only in the way of 
arrangement but in choice of plants. How seldom, 
except in gardens specially given to their culture, 
does one see enough use made of the lovely and 
fragrant tropical Rhododendrons, or the delightful 
Luculia gratissima, or of the sweetness of Boronia, or 
noble climbers like Beaumontia and Schubertia, or gems 
of purest colouring like Zcschenmdtia ! Even old 
favourites get forgotten, for though quite easy to 



160 



HOME AND GARDEN 



grow in a cool greenhouse and even hardy near our 
southern coasts, how rarely do we meet with the 
lovely and fragrant Manclevilla ! 

Two sides of such a square enclosure as I have 
suggested would probably be enough for the arrange- 
ments of tender and tropical flowering plants, or 
rather a space equal to two sides, extending from 
one end of the transverse passage, along the inner 
side of the enclosing wall, till the further end of 
the covered way is reached. The opposite portion 
would comprise vineries, peach "and fig houses, and 
any other kind of fruit culture under glass. In 
the case of the many smaller places where there are 
but few glass houses or even only one, the same 
enjoyable ai'rangements can be made if there be 
any space, even two square yards, that can be given 
exclusively to decoration. Some modest dwelling- 
houses have an enclosed glazed porch with side 
bays for plants, and an excellent plan it is. Many 
that have a good-sized built porch might have it 
arranged for flowers, by knocking through the side 
walls, leaving a small space of nine inches to a foot 
right and left to form piers, and turning a brick 
arch of half a circle, or of a segment of a larger 
circle, from pier to pier to support the upper part 
of the wall, and putting up outside such a glass 
structure as might best suit the space at disposaL 
Moreover, the brick arch and piers would have the 
distmct advantage of both acting as a frame to 



CONSERVATORIES 



161 



the flower- picture and of hiding a good deal of the 
upper part of the glazing, while the plants would 
have the full benefit of the light. If the porch 
was of fair height and the glass merely a lean-to, giv- 
ing a space inside of only four or five feet wide by 
two or three deep, it would still accommodate enough 
plants to make a pretty show, and I know nothing 
about a house that offers so bright and kindly a 
welcome to a visitor. 

Such a small space, even without a greenhouse 
in the background, could be easily dressed with a 
few pots of Aspidistra and some potted hardy Ferns 
as a groundwork; then a flowering plant or two, 
renewed from time to time at very small cost from 
a nursery or shop or barrow, would be all that is 
needed to keep it bright. 

Wasted opportunities are ever-flowing sources of 
regret. I feel this every time I pass any of the 
smaU villa residences near towns, whose doors face 
the road ; where, for the sake of some form of desire 
for pretentious display, or some allied motive to me 
equally incomprehensible, a good proportion of the 
small garden-space around the house is wasted, and 
privacy sacrificed, for the sake of a useless drive to 
the door, with either a pair of gates in and out, or a 
screwy space where a one-horse carriage can barely 
turn. How much better to have one door straight on 
to the footpath, and a glazed passage filled with well- 
arranged plants. Such an entrance, seven feet wide 

L 



162 HOME AND GARDEN 



inside, would allow a three-foot-wide path of plain 
stone flags, and a space of two feet on each side for 
pot and growing plants. The wood and glass-work 
would rest on the outer edge of a nine-inch wall three 
feet high, the remainiag part of the top of the wall 
still giving space enough within for the standing of 
small pots. Climbers and some of the main masses 
of foliage plants would be planted in the borders. 
There would be no regular staging, but, excepting 
those that might be placed on the three-foot wall, the 
plants would be arranged on the ground, standing 
the pots on pieces of slate or tile to prevent worms 
getting in, and raising some of the pots, as the shape 
of the groups might demand, by standing them on 
empty ones iuverted. 

Many plants would thrive in such a passage, even 
without artificial heat, or with a lamp-stove for the 
coldest nights, at any rate in and below the latitude 
of London. Fuchsia, Clematis indimsa and C, cirrhosa, 
Cobcea scandens, Passiflora cceruleay Physianthus alhens, 
Solanum jasminoides, and Daphne indica would be an 
ample list from which to choose climbers, while 
Hydrangeas and several kinds of Fern would do planted 
out, as a groundwork for flowering plants in pots. 

If the passage was to have a heating system I 
would have it wider, not less than 11 feet; and in 
this case the rows of pipes that would pass along by 
the walls should be hidden by a thin iuner wall built 
as rockwork in cement, leaving rather large openings 



CONSERVATORIES 



163 



both at the side and top, so as not to shut off too 
much of the heat. I can recommend this plan with 
the greater confidence because I have myself built and 
planted such a wall in a greenhouse, and found it to 
answer perfectly. In it were built pockets for Ferns 
and Selaginellas, and the whole soon became a mass 
of beautiful greenery ; the openings showing as fern- 
shrouded caves of mystery. 

An ordinary galvanised tank with its regular 
supply, for dipping, was sunk in the ground, its edge 
being hidden by slabs of sandstone. Just above it 
the rockwork rose rather more boldly, and from the 
rain-water gutter outside a pipe was led through, and 
passed under a concealing stone into a little rocky 
channel, which brought in addition any rain water, 
by one or two rough steps into the tank, pleasantly 
splashing the neighbouring Ferns on the way. 



CHAPTER XV 



THE MAKING OF POT-POURRI 

" Do tell me how you make your Pot-pourri ? " is a 
question that comes often during the year ; and it is 
so difficult to give a concise answ-er or a short written 
recipe, that I Avill just put down all I can think of 
about the material and method that go to its making, 
in the hope that it may help others who wish to 
prepare the fragrant compound on their own account. 
And though any one can make Pot-pourri after a 
fashion, yet to make it well and on rather a large 
scale, a good deal of care and a good deal of time 
are needed, besides suitable space and appliances, 
and a proper choice of material. 

The greater part of the bulk is of Rose petals 
and Sweet Geranium leaves, then, in lesser quantity. 
Lavender, leaves of Sweet Verbena, Bay, and Rose- 
mary, prepared Orange peel, and finally Orris-root 
powder, and various sweet gums and spices. 

There are of course the two kinds of Pot-pourri, 
the dry and the moist. The dry is much the easier 
and quicker to make, but is neither so sweet nor so 
enduring, so now the moist is the only kind I care 
to have. One of the chief reasons why it cannot be 

164 



THE MAKING OF POT-POURRI 165 



done by a fixed recipe is that the materials have 
first to be got to a certain state — liinp and leathery — 
neither too wet nor too dry ; and this state can only 
be secured by trying, and feeling one's way, and getting 
to know. When the ingredients are dried to the 
right degree, they are packed tightly into jars with a 
certain mixture of salt, which seems to combine with 
the remaining moisture, and serves both to retain 
the mass at the right degree of dampness, and also 
to preserve it from any kind of decay or mouldiness. 
In my own case, as a considerable quantity is made, 
I find it best to prepare a jar of each ingredient by 
itself, and then to mix all together ; but when the 
whole making is small, there is no reason why it 
should not all go into one receptacle until the time 
comes for adding the spices. In the whole arrange- 
ment the matter that wants most care is the proper 
preparation of the Rose petals. And the Roses must 
be in good order. They may be full blown, but 
must not be faded or in any way injured, and above 
all they must be quite dry. A Rose is a great hand 
at holding water. If it has been rained into when 
first opened, it will still hold the wet in its inner 
depths two days afterwards. Dew does not seem to 
go so far in, and is generally dried by noon ; but in 
any case it is safest to gather the Roses on a warm 
sunny afternoon. 

So every two or three days, when Roses are in 
plenty, we bring them in, perhaps a bushel-basket 



166 HOME AND GARDEN 



full at a time. If they cannot be picked over at 
once, they are laid out, not more than three inches 
thick, on a rough hempen wrapper about three yards 
long by two yards wide ; if they were left in the 
basket they would soon begin to "heat" and spoil. 
The shady, paved garden-court on the north side of 
the house is the chosen place, and the Rose-cloth is 
spread where the broad passage upstairs overhangs, 
so that we can sit below in shelter even in rain. 
Then at the earliest opportimity the Rose petals 
are pulled off their hard bases, and carefully sifted 
through the fingers so as to sepai'atc them as much 
as possible. Sometimes visitors are pressed into the 
service, sometimes the little nieces come down from 
their home close by, and often I go and pick them 
over after dark in the pleasant summer evening. 
It is just as easy to do without any light, and then 
one enjoys all the more the wonderful fragrance 
and the pleasant cool texture ; and plunging hands 
or face into the mass, delicious alike to scent and 
touch, one calls to mind how such generous measures 
of plucked Roses played their part in the feasts of 
ancient Rome. 

The separated petals lie on the cloth for two 
days, or for a longer or shorter time, as the air 
may be more or less drying, in order that they may 
lose a part of their moisture ; how much I cannot 
say, but perhaps half, as they look to be shrivelled 
to about half their size ; and now they are ready 





The PoT-roi KKi Uarvkst: Cutting Lavp:nder. 



THE MAKING OF POT-POURRI 167 



to go into their preparation jars. After making shift 
for some years with various odds and ends of jars, 
the best of them being a big bhie and grey German 
one and some South ItaHan oil jars, I had some 
made on purpose at Doulton's pottery. The material 
has to be firmly and evenly pressed, as it lies in the 
jar layer on layer, and as this is difficult to arrange 
in any vessel of bulging form, my jars were made 
quite cylindrical, and they answer admirably. They 
stand twenty-two inches high and have a diameter 
over all of ten inches, and have flat flanged lids with 
loop handles. They are of the strong buff stone- 
ware, like salt-jars, glazed inside and out. In order 
to keep the material well pressed down, I had some 
leaden discs cast of such a diameter as to go easily 
inside ; these are five-eighths of an inch thick, and 
weigh fourteen pounds each, and have also handles to 
lift by. 

The Rose petals are thrown in, about two good 
handfuls at a time, and are made to lie close together 
by gentle ramming, and have a thick sprinkling (not 
quite a covering) of the salt mixture. This is of 
equal parts bay salt and kitchen salt ; the bay salt, 
which comes in hard lumps, being roughly pounded, 
so that the greater part of it is in pieces the size 
of peas or smaller. The Rose leaves are put in as 
before, two handfuls or so, rammed, salted, and so 
on till all are in, then the leaden weight goes in, 
and the jar is covered till the next supply is ready. 



168 



HOME AND GARDEN 



The process is the same with the leaves of Sweet 
Geranium, only that they are taken off their stalks 
before they are dried, and all but the smallest are 
pulled into three or four pieces. They take about 
as long to dry as the Rose petals, and are laid 
out in the same way on the Rose-cloths. Sweet 
Verbena is of such a quick-drying nature that it 
only has to be stripped from the stalk and can be 
put in the jars at once ; also Bay leaves, Rosemary 
leaves, and Lavender ; but all are treated alike in 
that they are put into the jars in moderate layers, 
lightly rammed, salted and pressed. 

Lavender, whether for Pot-pourri or for drying, 
should be cut as soon as a good proportion of the 
lower flowers in the spike are out. My friends 
often tell me that ray Lavender smells better than 
theirs ; but it is only because I watch for the right 
moment for cutting, and am careful about the drying. 
If it is picked for drying, and is laid too thickly, it 
soon goes mouldy; it must be laid thinly and turned 
once or twice till it is dry enough to be safe. 

An important ingredient in good Pot-pourri is 
strips of Seville Orange peel stuck with Cloves. 
The peel is taken off and cut in pieces from end to 
end of the Orange, so that each is about half an 
inch wide in the middle and two inches long; 
holes are pricked in it, and the shaft of the Clove 
pressed in so that the heads nearly touch each 
other. The pieces are then packed into a jar 



THE MAKING OF POT-POURRI 



169 



firmly with the hand — they would not bear ram- 
ming — with sprinklings of salt in between and over 
the top. This is the first ingredient to be made 
ready, as the Oranges are in season from the end 
of February to the middle of March; the last 
batches of preparation being made towards the 
middle of September, of the later pickings of Sweet 
Geranium. 

The materials seem to be mellower and better 
for being left for some time in the preparation 
jars, so I put off the final amalgamation till near 
the end of October. The jars now hold the produce 
of some seven or eight bushels of Rose petals, about 
four bushels of Sweet Geranium, and another bushel 
of various sweet leaves, all of course much reduced 
in bulk by drying and ramming ; with this is about 
fifty pounds of the mixed salt. 

Now we have to get together the spices, sweet 
gums, and Orris-root. As an improvement on plain 
Orris-root it is advisable to use Atkinson's Violet 
Powder ; we therefore have — 

5 large packets Violet Powder, 

1 pound ground Allspice, 

1 pound ground Cloves, 

1 pound ground Mixed Spice, 

J pound ground Mace, 

1 pound whole Mace, 

1 pound whole Cloves, 

1 pound pounded Gum Benzoin, 

1 pound pounded Gum Storax or Styrax. 



170 HOME AND GARDEN 



All tlie powders are mixed together in a large bowl, 
and the whole Mace and Cloves are in another bowl, 
and now we are ready for the grand mixing. A 
space is swept on the brick floor of the studio just 
in front of the raised hearth of the broad ingle; 
the full jars are brought into a wide half-circle ; 
the home children and their elders, and perhaps 
one or two neighbours, are convened to the Pot- 
pourri party, with tea to follow; one mixer is posted 
at each jar or bowl, and the materials are thrown 
handful by handful on to the floor in the middle 
space. 

A\nien first I made Pot-pourri it could be mixed 
in a large red-ware pan ; as I grew more ambitious 
the mixing was done in a hip-bath, in later years 
in a roomy wooden tub ; but now the bulk is so 
considerable that it can only be dealt with on a 
clear floor space. 

The heap rises, and from time to time has to 
be flattened as the jolly party all round throw on 
their handfuls. The post of honour seems to be 
the distribution of the Orange peel stuck with 
Cloves, but the claim for the supreme dignity of 
this office is clearly though tacitly contested by the 
holder of the large basin of " sauce " of sweet 
powders. The pressed stuff in the jars is so 
tightly compacted that it has to be loosened by 
vigorous stabs and forkings with an iron prong, by 
one whose duty it is to go round and fork it up 



THE MAKING OF POT-POURRI 171 



so that it can be handled ; this official can hardly 
get round in time to satisfy the many calls of 
Please give me a stir up." The heap grows like 
one of the big ant-hills m the wood, until at last 
all the jars are empty, and every one's hands are 
either sticky with salt or powdery with sweet spices. 
Now the head Pot-pourri maker takes a shovel, and 
turns the heap over from left to right and then 
from right to left, and backwards and forwards 
several times till all is duly mixed. Then the 
store cask is brought forward: a strong iron-hooped 
oak cask with a capacity of fifteen gallons. It 
looks as if the fragrant heap could never be got 
into it, but in it goes shovelful by shovelful, and 
again it is rammed, until all is in, leaving only a 
bare two inches of space on the top. The cask 
has been made on pm-pose, and has no upper head, 
but a lid mth a wood-hooped rim that fits over 
the edge, and a knob-handle set out of the centre, 
the easier to lift the cover by jerking it to one 
side. 

The full cask is now so heavy that it is a job 
to get it back to its place against a farther wall ; 
it must weigh a hundredweight and three-quarters, 
possibly more. If the mixture stays some weeks or 
even months in the cask before any is taken out, 
by remaining untouched for awhile it seems to 
acquire a richer and more mellow scent. 

The studio floor is left in a shocking state of 



172 HOME AND GARDEN 



mess. A wide space in front of the ingle shows a 
dark patch of briny moisture ; footmarks of the same 
are thick in the neighbourhood of the site of the 
heap, and some small tracks further afield show where 
little feet have made more distant excursions ; but 
it is growing dark, and we must leave it and wipe 
our shoes and go in to tea, and there will be a 
half-day's work for the charwoman to-morrow. 

The foregoing description answers my friends' 
questions as to how / make Pot-pourri ; but it does 
not follow that they may not make it in different 
and better ways, according to the degree of personal 
intelligence and ingenuity that they may bring to 
bear on the material they have at disposal. 

I have always noted any Pot-pourri recipes that 
came in my way, and as the practice that suits my 
own conditions was evolved from them I will give 
them as they stand, only adding such critical or 
explanatory remarks as seem desirable. 

" Pot-pourri {Mrs. F. M.). Put alternate layers of 
Rose leaves and bay salt in any quantity you please, 
in an earthen pot. Press down with a plate and 
pour off the liquor that will be produced every day 
for six weeks, taking care to press as dry as possible. 
Let the mass be broken up, and add the following 
ingredients, well pounded and mixed together : — Nut- 
meg \ oz., Cloves, Mace, Cinnamon, Gum Benzoin, 
Orris-root sliced, 1 oz. each. Mix well with a wooderi 
spoon." 



THE MAKING OF POT-POURRI 173 



The obvious weakness of this recipe is, that it 
begins by saying Rose leaves and bay salt " in any 
quantity," and then gives a precise amount of the 
spice seasoning ; an amount which, according to my 
practice, would be suitable for 1| gallons of the 
larger bulk. It is also clearly a considerable saving 
of labour to dry the Rose leaves to the right degree 
at once, instead of having to attend to them " every 
day for six weeks." 

" Pot-j)o%tm {Lady F., from an old recipe). Put 
into a large China jar, used for this purpose, 
Damask and other shigle Roses, buds and blown 
flowers. Add to every peck of these a large hand- 
ful of Jasmine blossom, one of Violets, one of Orange 
flowers, Orris-root shced 1 oz., Benjamin and Storax 
1 oz. each, two or three handfuls of Clove Gilli- 
flowers, Allspice, pilled Marjoram, and Lemon Thyme, 
rind of Lemon, Balm of Gilead, and a few Bay 
leaves. Chop all these and mix them with bay 
salt, cover the jar, and stir occasionally." 

In this recipe I do not see the use of Rosebuds, 
as the aroma is not developed till the flower is 
full-blown. " Benjamin " is Gum Benzoin. " Pilled" 
Marjoram means Marjoram leaves stripped ofl" the 
stalks. " Chop all these " is a vagueness of instruc- 
tion only too frequent in the recipe book, for it is 
evident that a small round hard object like the 
seed or berry or dried bud, whichever it may be, 
of Allspice, and resin-like masses of aromatic gums, 



174 HOME AND GARDEN 



should be bruised or pounded or in some way more 
finely divided than could be done by such mere 
chopping as might serve for the division of more 
soft and bulky masses of leaf and flower. 

"Pot-pourri {Mrs. D. W.). Gather large Damask 
Rose leaves and dry them in the sun, also Lavender 
flowers and scented Verbena, also dried. Bruise a 
little common salt with h lb. of bay salt, I lb. Saltpetre, 
\ oz, Storax, 6 gr. Musk, and 2 02. pounded Cloves. 
Mix all together with the dried leaves and put in a 
covered jar." 

" Pot-pourri {Lady J.). Pick your Roses when they 
are quite dry ; it ought to be the red single Apothecary 
Rose. Strip them, being sure to utilise the little seeds 
from the centre, and have a large earthenware jar. 
Put in layers of Rose leaves, and between each layer 
shake in two or three handfuls of bay salt and of 
powdered Spice, Cinnamon, and Cloves, and on the 
top pour some Lavender water. You can keep on 
adding to your jar as it sinks and you get fresh Rose 
leaves." 

" Pot-pourri. A thin layer of bay salt at the 
bottom of the jar, any sort of sweet flowers dried in 
the shade, with Storax, Gum Benjamin, Calamino 
Aromatico, and Sandalwood shavings ; a very little 
Musk, Cloves, and some powdered Cinnamon; bay 
salt must be thrown over the whole. It must be 
stirred daily." 

In these recipes there is the same ambiguity about 



THE MAKING OF POT-POURRI 175 



the proportion of bulk to that of seasoning, and it 
should be made clear that the jar should be either 
of porcelain or of strong earthenware well glazed both 
inside and out. 

" Calamino Aromatico " is no doubt Styi-ax, other- 
wise Storax, although the recipe that includes it also 
has Styrax. But I read in one of the most interesting 
books of reference I have on my shelves, namely, 
Mr. Daniel Hanbury's pharmacological and botanical 
"Science Papers" (Macmillan, 1876), of ''Styrax 
calamites," a term derived from the ancient method 
of packing it in reeds. 

In ordering these sweet gums for Pot-pourri, it is 
Avell to remember that there is a liquid Stjnrax as well 
as the solid resinous kind. Once, when I had ordered 
a pound of Gum Styrax, at the last moment when I 
thought all was ready for mixing, there w^as a jar 
of aromatic viscosity like birdlime, quite useless and 
unmanageable. 

"Pot-pourri (Lady Betty Germain, 1750). Gather 
dry, Double Violets, Rose leaves, Lavender, Myrtle 
flowers. Verbena, Bay leaves, Rosemary, Balm, Musk, 
Geranium. Pick these from the stalks and dry on 
paper in the sun for a day or two before putting 
them in a jar. This should be a large white one, 
well glazed, with a close-fitting cover, also a piece 
of card the exact size of the jar, which you must 
keep pressed down on the flowers. Keep a new 
wooden spoon to stir the salt and flowers from the 



176 



HOME AND GARDEN 



bottom, before you put in a fresh layer of bay salt 
above and below every layer of flowers. Have ready 
of spices, plenty of Cinnamon, Mace, Nutmeg, and 
Pepper and Lemon peel pounded. For a large jar 

1 lb. Orris -root, 1 oz. Storax, 1 oz. Gum Benjamin, 

2 ozs. Calamino arcmatico, 2 grs. Musk, and a small 
quantity of oil of Rhodium. The spice and gums 
to be added when you have collected all the flowers 
you intend to put in. Mix all well together, press 
it down well, and spread bay salt on the top to ex- 
clude the air until the January or February following. 
Keep the jar in a cool, dry place." 

This, on the whole, is the best of these recipes, 
though, for my own taste, I should leave out the 
Musk and oil of Rhodium. I have never tried 
pepper ; and though at flrst it sounds doubtful, it 
may be worth trying, bearing in mind that the 
irritating property that makes one sneeze comes 
from inlialing particles as a dry dust, whereas in 
the damp preparation, where the atoms would be 
clogged into the mass, the fragrant scent only would 
be given off. In this recipe again comes the puzzle 
of Storax and Calamino aromatico. I have not been 
able to ascertain what differ en ce there is between 
these two, all that I have as yet found out point- 
ing to their being the same thing. " Spread bay 
salt on the top to exclude the air ; " to exclude the 
air seems a doubtful explanation of the purpose of 
the salt; the close-fitting cover is to exclude the 



THE MAKING OF POT-POURRI 177 



air ; the function of the bay salt is to retain moisture 
and to resist corruption. 

In making Pot-pourri by the lazier and less 
effective dry process, it is the drying of the Rose 
petals that requires the most care. The Roses must 
bo picked quite dry, the petals pulled apart and 
laid thinly on sheets of paper in an airy room till 
absolutely dry. They must then smell quite sweet, 
mthout the least taint of mustiness ; any batch 
so tainted must be thrown away. The Lavender 
and Sweet Geranium that will form the greater part 
of the rest of the bulk must also be carefully dried, 
but in their case the drying is much easier. For 
a quantity equal to two-thirds of a bushel the spice 
mixture would be — Cloves, Mace, Cinnamon, 2 oz. 
each; Coriander, Allspice, Gum Styrax, Gum Benzoin, 
J oz. each ; Violet Powder, | lb. The spices and 
gums should be in powder or finely crushed. 

For any kind of Pot-pourri I am always on the 
lookout for sweet materials such as shavings or 
sawdust of Sandalwood or Sweet Cedar ; all ingredients 
that have an enduring fragrance are good and wel- 
come. I do not use any special sort of Rose petals, 
but all or any that are in full blow and in good 
condition. One of the recipes quoted says " it ought 
to be the single Apothecary Rose." I do not know 
what the Apothecary Rose is, and as I have asked 
a trusty friend, who is a learned scholar and a 
careful botanist, and who has made a special study 

M 



178 HOME AND GAEDEN 



of garden Roses and theii' origin, who says he also 
does not knoAv what it is ; and further, as I find 
I can make very good Pot-pourri without being able 
to identify it, I conclude that it does not matter. 
There also seems to be a divergence of opinion as 
to whether the Rose petals should be diied in the 
sun or in the shade. This also I think is of far 
less moment (though I rather incline to drying in 
the shade, as a process slower and more under con- 
trol) than that the petals should be dried evenly and 
to the right degree. 



CHAPTER XVI 

PLANTS FOR POOR SOILS 

The natural soil of my heathy hilltop is so exces- 
sively poor and sandy that it has obliged me, in a 
way, to make a special study of plants that will do 
fairly well with the least nutriment, and of all sorts 
of ways of meeting and overcoming this serious diffi- 
culty in gardening. It is some compensation that 
the natural products of the upper ten acres of my 
ground — Heath and Bracken, Whortleberry, fine 
grasses and brilliant mosses below, and above them 
a now well-grown copse of Birch and Holly, Oak, 
Chestnut, and Scotch Fir — are exactly what I like 
best in a piece of rough ground ; indeed I would 
scarcely exchange my small bit of woodland, especially 
after some years of watching and guiding in the way 
it should go, with any other such piece that I can 
think of. 

The main paths through this woodland space 
are broad grassy ones kept mown ; they enable one 
to get about with perfect ease among the trees, and 
being fairly wide, about fifteen feet, they incite one to 
a broad and rather large treatment of the tree-groups 
near them. But there are smaller paths about four 

179 



180 HOME AND GARDEN 



feet wide that pass for the most part through the 
more thickly wooded places. They were made for 
a twofold purpose, firstly for the sake of having 
paths where paths were wanted, and secondly for 
obtaining the thin skin of black, peaty earth, the 
only soil my ground can boast, that overlies the great 
depths of yellow sand and stony strata that go down 
for nearly two hundred feet before we come to water. 
As the paths were made, this precious earth was 
stored in heaps by their sides, and these heaps have 
been a precious reserve to draw upon ever since. In 
some places this peaty surface is only an inch thick, 
though in some hollow holes there may be as much 
as four inches. Below that is an inch or two of 
loose sand, partly silver sand ; this we also save ; then 
comes hard yellowish sand and what is called the 
" pan," a thin layer of what is neither stone nor sand, 
but something between the two. It is like thick flakes 
of rotten rust ; hard enough for the spade to ring on 
Avhen it reaches it, supported by the firm sand below. 
In all cultivation for woodland planting it is neces- 
sary to break through this pan ; nothing thrives if 
this is not done. 

No part of my copse was broken up except a 
space of about forty feet wide next to my southern 
frontier, where I wished to plant groups of Juniper, 
Holly, Mountain Ash, and Ilex ; and a roundish area 
about the middle of the ground for Cistuses. Both 
ai'e now so well covered with a natural carpet of the wild 



PLANTS FOR POOR SOILS 181 



Heaths that one would not know they had ever been 
touched, and I could wish for nothing better, both as 
a groundwork to what has been planted and as a 
growth that harmonises with all that is near. Before 
the present wood grew up — it is all self-sown — the 
ground was covered with an old plantation of Scotch 
Fir. This was cut when full-grown, but one or two 
trees that had misshapen or double stems were left. 
One of these stands near the Cistus ground, and 
though its thin old top has been badly battered by 
storms of wind and snow, yet from several points of 
view the old tree has much pictorial value. 

There can be little doubt that for the poor soils 
of our southern counties there are no better shrubs 
than the hardier of the Cistuses. Of those that are 
hardy south of London the most easy to grow is 
C. laurifolius. It soon becomes a large bush ; in 
sheltered places seven feet high and as much through. 
It will thrive in almost pure sand if deeply worked. 
Throughout the month of June it bears a daily suc- 
cession of its two-inch-wide white flowers ; it greets the 
kindly south-west wind with a lavish outpouring of 
its delicious fragrance, not only in summer but in the 
very depth of winter ; and as it grows old, and here 
and there a branch breaks and dies, it has, like 
Lavender and Rosemary and Juniper and many 
another good thing, an old age which is neither untidy 
nor unsightly but is dignified and pictorial. 

Cishis ladanifems, the Gum Cistus, is an even 



182 HOME AND GARDEN 



more beautiful shrub, but it is rather more tender. 
The manner of growth is not so sohd or compact; 
the long shoots and long-shaped leaves look almost 
willow-hke ; but the beauty of the whole shrub is of 
a high order. So also is that of its wide white purple- 
blotched flowers of delicate substance, that, poppy- 
like, retain the mark of the folds of bud-life in the 
petals' dainty texture during their short span of un- 
folded beauty. For the only thing to regret about a 
Cistus is that its flowers are so fugacious. Many 
expand in the morning to fall at noon, and though 
some may remain an hour or two later, yet by the 
afternoon the bushes are nearly bare, and only by the 
white pool of fallen petals on the ground below them 
may we know how fair and full was the flower of the 
forenoon. 

These, the two largest of the Cistuses for our 
gardens, have foliage of a deep green colour and a 
dull smooth surface, C. laclaniferus having the brighter 
leaf of the two. The foliage of both of them turns 
to a curious bluish-leaden colour in winter. Cistus 
populifolius and C. cordifolius are smaller bushes of 
lighter foliage ; with me they stand all but the 
severest winters, as also do Cistus albidus, C. salvce- 
foliuSy and C. monspcliensis. C. Jlorentinus is about the 
same for hardiness. This and C. creticus are two of 
my favourites among those of moderate growth. C. 
creticus has rough leaves of a lively green, while those 
of C. Jlorentinus are of a deep green, very low in tone. 



PLANTS FOR POOR SOILS 183 



that in full summer assume a splendid richness of 
reddish-bronze, while the long succession of its ex- 
tremely abundant bloom makes it one of the best 
of the family for the more important portions of the 
garden. Cistus is so closely related to Helianthemum, 
and their uses are so nearly identical, that the men- 
tion of Helianthemum naturally follows. They thrive 
under the same conditions of poor soil and full sun- 
shine ; they are mostly lower of stature, the leaves 
smaller and greyer, and though H. algarvensis has 
an upright way of growth, and against a wall will 
rise some feet, yet their more usual habit is that of 
low bushes, some quite trailing. H. formosiim (as 
often known as Cistus formosus) is a capital plant in 
my garden. The yellow flowers are large, and so 
abundant that the whole small bush shows brightly 
from a distance. H. halimifolium has an almost 
prostrate habit ; foliage also grey, and bloom abundant. 
These are the only ones with yellow flowers, except 
our small native Rock-rose, that I know well. H. 
rosmarinifolium is a beautiful dwarf bush, suited for 
a sunny place in the front of the choicest shrub-bank. 
Its leaves are small and narrow, Rosemary-shaped, 
and dark in colour ; its many small flowers are milk- 
white, of delicate texture, and extremely fugacious. 
Then there are the many species and garden varieties 
of the branches of the family that our common wild 
one (JETeliantheimtm vulgar e) may be taken to repre- 
sent ; with flowers of many colours, red, rosy pink. 



184 HOME AND GARDEN 



orange yellow, and creamy white; some with double- 
flowered varieties ; all good as sun-loving plants in 
poor soils. These, as well as all kinds of Cistus, 
are easily raised from cuttings. As old plants of the 
dwarf Rock-roses are apt to get into straggling masses 
of matted growths unless judiciously cut-in every two 
years, it is well (and indeed wise in any case) to make 
a few cuttings from time to time. 

Best among all good plants for hot sandy soils are 
the ever-blessed Lavender and Rosemary, two delicious 
old garden bushes that one can hardly dissociate, so 
delightfully do they agree in their homely beauty and 
their beneficence of enduring fragrance, as well as in 
their love of the sun and their power of resisting 
drought. I plant Rosemary all over the garden, so 
pleasant is it to know that at every few steps one 
may draw the kindly branchlets through one's hand, 
and have the enjoyment of their incomparable incense ; 
and I grow it against walls, so that the sun may draw 
out its inexhaustible sweetness to greet me as I pass ; 
and early in March, before any other scented flower 
of evergreen is out, it gladdens me with the thick 
setting of pretty lavender-grey bloom crowding all 
along the leafy spikes. 

In the island of Capri, as elsewhere around the 
Mediterranean, Rosemary is a common plant; but 
rambling over its rocky heights I found not unfre- 
quently, besides the one of ordinary habit, a dwarf 
form, quite prostrate, pressing its woody stems and 



PLANTS FOB POOR SOILS 185 



branches so tightly to any rock or stone that came 
in its way that it followed its form as closely as would 
a dwarf and clinging Ivy. Other plants seem to 
break into varieties with this way of growing. I 
hear of the same trick among Junipers in Norway, 
in plants otherwise the same as those that grow 
into upright bushes. In my own ground there is 
a common Juniper that will not grow upright ; it is 
a foot high and four feet across, the branches all 
growing horizontally, and apparently with a kind of 
dehberate determination, for the branches grow lower 
and straighter than even those of its relative, the 
Savin, whose business it is to grow in this Avay. 

Of Lavender I always arrange to have two hedges 
of a good bearing age, besides a number of bushes 
here and there. Every year in early summer we 
make a good number of cuttings. When rooted these 
are planted out in nursery lines, and in the autumn 
of the next year they are nice round little bushes, 
just at the best size for planting out permanently. 
Lavender can also be propagated by layering, but the 
plants are not so well shaped as those grown from 
cuttings. The year after planting, the young hedge 
gives a few nice flowers, the next year a good crop, 
and the third year its fullest jdeld. After that, with 
me, the bush deteriorates, and begins to show bare 
gaps, yielding less bloom. Still in half-wild places I 
leave it, because though it is no longer so effective 
as a flowering bush it is distinctly pictorial. But 



186 HOME AND GARDEN 



the Lavender hedges which are in the region where 
pleasure garden meets working garden, and the flowers 
are wanted as a crop, the bushes are only kept for 
three flowering years, after which they are pulled up 
and destroyed and a young hedge made, the plants 
being put about three and a half feet apart. I always 
think it well with all these plants and shrubs of South 
European origin to put them out as early as possible, 
not later than the middle of October, so that their 
naked roots may get hold of the ground while it is 
still warm. In places where the soil is stiff" enough 
to take up growing things with a ball of earth it 
matters less, but here and in other poor soils the 
earth shakes off* entirely, leaving the roots quite 
bare. 

If the plant has been grown in a pot this 
difficulty does not occm-, but I have a great dis- 
like to growing hardy plants and shrubs in pots ; 
the roots become painfully cramped and distorted, 
and the damage done to them, besides the risk of 
inefficient planting — for a pot-bound root needs the 
most careful manipulation — does not in any way 
compensate for the convenience. The Lavender 
crop is carefully watched and harvested at the 
moment of its best early maturity. This is when 
a good number of the lower flowers in the spike 
are open, but none of those in the top. We 
arrange to have the two hedges that are in bear- 
ing in such positions that one is in a rather 



PLANTS FOR POOR SOILS 



187 



warmer aspect than the other, so that the whole 
crop does not come ripe at the same time. 

Shrubs of the Broom and Gorse tribes are some 
of the very best for light soils. The common yellow 
Broom {Cytisus scoparins) of our sandy wastes is 
worthy of garden space ; its bright colouring only 
excelled by that of the sparer - flowermg yelloAv 
Spanish Broom {Spartium junceum). I like to plant 
pale flowered bushes of our wild yellow with the 
white Portugal Broom (Cijtisus alius) and with 
the sometimes warm - white and often pale straw- 
yellow - coloured Cytisus prcecox. C. andrcana, the 
partly red-flowered sport of the common Broom, is 
best planted with bushes of the type of rather 
deep colour. 

The Spanish Gorse (JJlex hispanicus) is a beauti- 
ful small shrub, very neat and round in habit, and 
smothered with bright yellow bloom in early summer. 
The double form of our wild Gorse is so well known 
that it need not be described; its only fault is its 
short life of not many years, but this can be remedied 
by careful treatment, and its life much prolonged — 
indeed almost indefinitely — by cutting down all or 
many of its branches every three years, and by layering 
some of those that are outermost. The Brooms also 
bear pegging down, and it is a good plan, if a good- 
sized group is being planted, to let some in the middle 
and at the back of the group grow upward unchecked, 
and to plant others between them and rather to 



188 HOME AND GARDEN 



the front, leaning forward or outward the better to 
prepare them for future peggmg. 

Among shrubs more suitable to the garden proper, 
though also good for rough places in the very poorest 
and hottest soil, is the Jerusalem Sage {Phlomis fruti- 
cosa) ; a curious and picturesque plant in all states, 
the leaves much like those of Sagre, but stifFer and 
whiter, and with a strongly waved outline. Stems 
and leaves are covered with a woolly coating that 
feels like a rough-piled velvet ; looser and browner 
on the stems. 

At its full growth it is nearly five feet high, 
and will spread to seven feet, tumbling about in 
picturesque masses when old. In a roughish place, 
where such a form is suitable, it is a strikingly 
handsome plant, but in trimmer garden spaces, if 
it threatens to invade equally worthy neighbours, 
it very well bears cutting; in this case it is best 
to take out whole branches from the bottom, to avoid 
the stiff, stunted look that a shrub has when pruned 
all over. There are other kinds of Phlomis, but this 
one is the best. 

The Tree-Lupin is another of om' grand plants, 
growing quickly from seed, and at its thhd and 
usually last year quite a large bush. Except from 
the fact of its short life, for it is scarcely hard 
wooded, it would be a grand wall plant, cover- 
ing a space ten feet high by the third year ; but 
though the life may be prolonged for a year or 



PLANTS FOR POOR SOILS 189 



two by clever pruning, the gap it leaves when it 
dies is so large that it is perhaps wiser to clothe 
the wall with something more enduring. 

The coloming is in varieties of pale yellow and 
pale purple; the clear yellows are those I like best. 
Occasionally seedlings disappoint one by coming of 
a poor muddled colour, a mixture of washy purple 
and dull yellow and dirty white. I hear of the 
fixing of a fine white kind, and shall grow it next 
season in the hope that it may do credit to its 
advertised character. 

Two of the North American thornless Brambles, 
Bubiis nutkanus and Ruhits spcdabilis, are capital 
plants in poor soil. The taller of them is a very 
handsome thing in late summer. Many of my 
visitors assume that because my soil is sandy, 
and there is a thin skin of peat, that it is there- 
fore perfect for Rhododendrons and Azaleas. But 
such an assumption is much too hasty, and though 
I do grow these grand shrubs, and even Kalmias, 
it is only by means of a careful preparation first 
and a close watchfulness afterwards. Where they 
were to be, the ground Avas first deeply trenched, 
but at every place where a Rhododendron was 
planted, the trenched soil was taken out two feet 
deep, and a good barrow-load of the peaty top earth 
was put in. Then the plant was placed, and its 
ball covered with a little of the peaty stufi". A 
good dressing of cow manure was next worked in 



190 HOME AND GARDEN 



so that it should be well rotted by the time the 
growing roots should reach it next year ; then the 
soil was partly filled in, leaving the plant standing 
in a shallow depression (for economy in watering) 
over whose surface was spread another good coating 
of cow manure, and this coatmg was renewed for 
several years in succession. Even this careful 
planting must also be followed up by copious 
waterings in dry seasons, for all plants of this class 
are moisture-loving, and though, when they have 
been growing some years, and have so well covered 
the ground that it is kept somewhat cool by their 
own shade, they may do fairly well, they would do 
very much better if they had the constant comfort 
of moisture within root reach. 

My Rhododendrons are in large clumps, with 
Auratum Lilies in many of the spaces between 
them, and hardy Ferns, Andromedas, and some 
of the Dwarf Rhododendrons filling up the outer 
spaces between them. But the Azaleas, some 
distance away, stand unevenly apart, among open 
spaces of grass and Heath, and want yearly atten- 
tion because the grass and weeds so soon invade 
the richer preparation at their root. I often bewail 
the waste of these lovely shrubs when I see them 
planted close together in bare beds of poor soil, or, 
worse still, mixed up with even more starved and 
unhappy Rhododendrons. Though all my Azaleas 
are some yards apart, I sometimes wish they were 



PLANTS FOR POOR SOILS 191 



still more largely spaced, although I like here and 
there to plant two or three of the same together, 
or if not the same, of such colourings as approach 
each other and will make a mass of closely related 
harmony. Kalmias are almost swamp-plants, and 
are grateful for any amount of water that can be 
given them in a dry soil. How I long to have a 
good patch of peaty swamp and to plant it mainly 
with Kalmias of different ages, and to have with 
them a restricted number of things that would 
enjoy such a place. My first choice would be some 
patches of Royal Fern and of Lady Fern, with a 
wide plantmg of Epigcca repens and a long drift of 
Cypripecliitm spedabile. 

All the hardy Heaths are happy in poor, sandy 
soil simply trenched. There are so many beautiful 
kinds that it is hard to resist getting a larger 
number of varieties than look well together. Our 
own heathy wastes show a good example of how 
two, or at most three, suit each other's company. 

It would be extremely interesting to plant a 
large space with these Heaths, and though I have 
more than once seen bold plantations of them, I 
have never seen them placed quite as I should 
like. I should always plant them in the long 
drifts that seems to me by far the most natural 
and pictorial way of placing most plants in rather 
wild places, and I would have them so that very 
few kinds were in sight at the same time. And I 



192 HOME AND GARDEN 



would have plants of different sizes, and sometimes 
a space of bare earth where their seed might 
fall and grow. And I would allow the finest 
grasses to grow between ; and if the height and 
spread of the Heath overcame the grass let it do 
so, as does the Calluna of our wild heaths. 

In extremely poor soils such as I have to deal 
with, and of which there are large tracts in the 
South of England, it is useless to attempt to grow 
shrubs or the stronger garden plants without a 
thorough cultivation. If the soil cannot be arti- 
ficially made — I make all mine nearly three 'feet 
deep — let it be broken up or trenched to nearly 
this depth. It is the only other alternative ; 
indeed it is quite remarkable how things will grow 
in the poorest soil if only it is deeply stirred, 
especially in the first year or two. A bank twenty 
feet deep of pure sand wheeled out of a quarry 
will grow Birches and Scotch Firs. And with suit- 
able manuring and constant working I have seen 
such depths of lately-moved sand converted into 
productive vegetable ground. In extra deep trench- 
ing of poor soil, of course the precious top spit 
must not be buried at the bottom as is done in 
simple trenching. A system I find to work admir- 
ably in my own ground is to open a trench nearly 
three feet wide and deep, lapng aside the top spit 
and some of the sand close at hand, and wheeling 
most of the sand from below right away. Two- 



PLANTS FOR POOR SOILS 193 

thirds of the depth is then filled Avith vegetable 
refuse from the rubbish hecap, or with green waste 
from any part of the garden. At the rubbish yard 
we are careful to separate our waste products; only 
burning that which is absolutely dry, and rotten 
woody material that would breed fungus. If this 
stuff is already more than half decayed we fill it 
in higher, but if still rather green or quite fresh 
it is rammed down, mixing in some of the sand. 
The top soil is then returned to the top and the 
next trench opened. It is surprising how all plants 
and shrubs will thrive in ground so prepared : the 
secret of their happiness is that there is a cool 
medium under them, as well as a vast region of long- 
endurmg nutriment for hungry rootlets to explore. 

Let no one think that general gardening is easy 
in these light lands overlying two hundred feet of 
dry sand and rock. Unless the things grown are 
restricted to the few kinds already named, and some 
of the sand-loving plants to be named presently, the 
ground must be deeply prepared. But in a great 
many places it would be distinctly desirable just to 
grow these things and no others. The restriction to 
the small number of kinds would be of the utmost 
benefit in the way of saving the garden from the 
usual crowded muddle of a multitude of single plants, 
and it could be made and maintained with the least 
possible labour, simple trenching and very moderate 
enriching being all that would be wanted. 

N 



194 HOME AND GARDEN 



No family of plants is more absolutely at home 
in sandy ground than the Sea-Hollies. If I had some 
long stretches of bare, unsightly heaps or ridges of 
sand, how I would plant the noble Eryngiums : the 
dwarf blue-leaved kind {Eryngium maritimum), neitiYG 
of sandy dunes near the sea; the taller blue (K 
oliverianum), both perennial and long enduring ; the 
grand biennial {E. gigantenm) ; giving this lovely so- 
called Silver Thistle room to sow itself for future 
years. Such a planting on a large scale would pre- 
sent a picture of rare beauty, especially if approaching 
the flowers of blue and silver there was a planting 
of the blue-leaved Lyme Grass {Elymus areimrius). I 
have no such stretches of sandy waste, but knowing 
how it will do in a place that is poor and dry, I grow 
it in the end of a shrub- clump, where a large Birch 
tree robs the ground, and where I think nothing but 
this fine handsome Grass would be likely to flourish. 
I believe I may truly say that of all the groups of 
plants in my garden there is none that attracts so 
much notice and admiration. 

There are families of aromatic plants that do well 
in the poorest ground ; many of them are in pleasant 
harmony of leaf- colouring of whitish or bluish-grey. 
Such are many of the Wormwoods, of which the 
fragrant cottage favourite, Southernwood {Artemisia 
dbrotanum), is one. This grows into a dense bush 
two feet high, and may well be associated with some 
of the smaller kinds such as A. nana and A. sericea. 




Lyme (Irass {Elynuis) and Lavkndkr-Cotton [Sanfo/ina). 



PLANTS FOR POOR SOILS 195 

Other sand -loving plants with whitish Leaves are 
Lavender-cotton (Santolina chamcecyparissits) and Cine- 
raria maritima. This beautiful plant, with its deeply- 
cut foliage of silvery grey, is unhappily not generally 
hardy, though it Avill stand through the milder of our 
winters ; but it is easily groTO from seed. 

Light, sandy ground is of a dry, warm nature, and 
many southern plants that rot away with damp in 
stronger soils survive and thrive in it. Acanthus in its 
several varieties is grand in full sun, and nothing can 
be happier than the beautiful Alstromerias of Chile, 
or that finest shrub of comparatively recent introduc- 
tion, the Mexican Orange-flower {Choisya ternata). 
The giant Grasses from Japan, Eulalia japonica striata 
and E. zebrina, do grandly, and when after a year or 
two they have gi'own into strong plants, are very 
handsome, and combine extremely well with many 
kinds of flowers. I have them in the borders of 
Michaelmas Daisies as well as in the larger flower 
border. The tall white Asphodel of the Mediter- 
ranean region is also happy in the warm sand, and 
so is the dwarfer yellow kind ; and nothing can do 
better than the grand Mulleins, Verhascum olympicum 
and V. phlomoides. 

The large garden Thistles are magnificent — the 
great silvery Onopordon eight feet high, and its 
relative 0. arahicum of still greater stature ; also 
the Milk Thistle (Silybum Marianum) ; they look 
their best in rough ground or on sandy mounds, and 



196 HOME AND GARDEN 



when once planted will always sow themselves 
afresh. The pretty lilac-flowered, grey-leaved Cat- 
mint {Nepeta Mussoni) should have been named 
among the sand-loving plants with hoary foUage. 
It is a capital thing anywhere, but especially on 
dry sunny banks ; it groups charmingly with 
Lavender bushes, and I like to have near it, for 
harmony of flower-colour as well as for its own 
sake, and because it also loves our combination of sun 
and sand, the pretty little Sisyrinchium Bermudiana, 
With the Catmint should be associated the hand- 
some herb Hyssop, fuU of its purple flower-spikes 
in early autumn ; a plant that seems to have a 
singular attraction for the pale-broTO bumble-bees. 
Oriental Poppies like the light gi'ound if deeply 
worked, and so do the greater number of the flag- 
leaved Irises. These are best divided and trans- 
planted every fourth year ; their rhizomes grow fast, 
and if left longer, crowd upon one another so 
closely that the roots cannot find nourishment ; 
they then make known their discomfort by refusing 
to flower and by showing starved-looking fohage. 

A very pretty plant is Stohcca purpurea ; it well 
deserves to be better known and more often grown. 
It has prickly, silvery, rather Thistle-like fohage, 
but the flower, instead of being disappointingly 
small in proportion to the plant as in Thistles, is 
wide open hke a large loose Daisy, and its colour, 
the faintest tinge of purple pervading white, is 



PLANTS FOR POOR SOILS 197 

both lovely in itself and in relation to the colour 
of the leaves. The radical leaves are rather large 
and spreading; the flower stems, each bearing from 
twelve to fifteen of the large blooms, are three feet 
high and richly ornamented, for they are clothed 
with a leafy growth, handsomely waved and scal- 
loped and spine-edged, just as if each of the long 
stalk-leaves grew on to the stem by its mid-rib 
for half its length or more. 

Gaultheria Shallon must not be forgotten among 
dwarf shrubs that will flourish in sand. It is slow 
to move when first planted, but like many plants 
that run underground, it grows and spreads fast 
when well established. It has the unusual merit 
of doing well under trees, and will even grow under 
Scotch Firs, though not perhaps under their deepest 
shade. And sand-loving is the sweet wild Thyme 
and its garden varieties, and others of the dwarf 
sweet-herbs, whose fragrant merit is so great that it 
should not be wasted by their being grown only in 
the kitchen garden. 

The handsome Corchorus japonicus, so well grown 
in cottage gardens, is also a sand shrub, and so is 
the pretty Tea-tree (Lycium europceum), so good for 
covering porches and arbours. 

Few Roses are natives of sandy places, but we have 
a grand exception in the Burnet Rose and its garden 
varieties the Scotch Briers, described in the chapter 
on Brier Roses. It is true that the two wild Roses, 



198 HOME AND GARDEN 



B. canina and R. arvense, grow in our hedges, but 
only sparingly in comparison with their abundance 
in chalk or clay lands. But happily, with a moderate 
preparation, we can enjoy the beauty of the free- 
rambling Cluster Roses and some of the species, 
notably R. polyantha, which is easily grown to a 
very large size. 

Some of , the low-growing Cruciferce are quite 
happy in poor ground, such as Aubrietia, Arabis, 
Cerastium, and Alyssum. All these are at their 
best in banks and loose rock walls, either in sun 
or shade, where they can either trail or hang over 
in sheets of pretty leaf and bloom; and with then) 
should be some of the hybrid Rock-Pinks, at home 
in the same places and willingly growing in the 
same manner. 



CHAPTER XVII 

GARDENING FOR SHORT TENANCIES 

It often happens that from some circumstance of life 
or occupation a temporary home has to be made. A 
governor or other official has a three or five years' 
appointment ; married officers whose regiments are in 
camp or garrison take houses in the neighbourhood ; a 
son is at a public school, and his parents wish to be 
near him. Hence, for these and many such reasons, 
official residences and other houses are occupied for a 
short term of years only ; but so general is the love of 
flowers among us, that most of these houses of short 
tenure are lived in by people who wish to make the 
most of their gardens. 

The question how to treat the gardens of such 
places comes to me all the more frequently because I 
live within reach of Aldershot. A letter lately received 
says " all Aldershot tries to have a little garden," and 
I feel all the bolder in venturing to offer suggestions, 
in that the extremely poor, sandy soil of the district 
exactly matches my own. Therefore it is quite safe to 
advise, firstly, the deepest possible cultivation. Even 
if it is nothing but sand, stir up that sand so that the 
always-beneficial movement of air and water may play 

199 



200 HOME AND GARDEN 



through it both up and down, and keep it sweet and 
wholesome. If there is anything like soil at the top, 
or even a few-inches-deep top layer stained with 
" humus " (decayed vegetable matter), trench three spit 
deep, and keep this top spit in the second layer. 
Simple technical terms like this one " spit " are a 
stumbling-block to many. A " spit " in gardening is a 
spade's depth of any kind of soil, representing a depth 
of about eight inches. Here, in a typical Aldershot 
soil, I am not content with a depth of three spit, but 
go three feet, as described in the chapter on " Plants 
for Poor Soils," p. 192. 

But official dwellers in and about the camp have 
one grand advantage which I have not, in a vast 
supply of stable manure. And though it has neither 
the cooling quality of cow manure nor the richness of 
pig, yet anything of a nourishing nature in so poor a 
soil is of extreme value, especially as it also puts into 
the ground the precious chemical constituents of the 
decayed straw. And an abundant supply of stable 
refuse has another use, hardly less important. For 
^ supposing the ground to be deeply dug, and a good 
dressing of manure worked in, and flowering things 
planted, nothing, in a light soil and a climate with an 
over-abundance of blazing sun, such as the camp 
enjoys, can be more valuable than the possibility of 
applying a generous " mulch." To mulch is to cover 
the ground with some porous material that will keep 
the surface cool and open (" open " means not caked 



GARDENING FOR SHORT TENANCIES 201 



or clogged). La^vn-mowings, half-decayed leaves — 
fresh ones would do, but they blow about — cocoa- 
fibre refuse, are materials commonly used for mulch- 
ing, but manure is far the best, for it has the additional 
advantage of its feeding power, the rain washing the 
nourishing matter down to the roots in gentle doses, 
and presenting it in the way most easily assimi- 
lated. 

It should be remembered that an abundant supply 
of richness is also a danger, because it is easy to over- 
manure, and plants too heavily manured may be 
actually starved, because the food is not in a state 
that they can take up. It is therefore important that 
manure dug into the ground should not be too fresh, 
but partly decayed. The wisest thing is to keep a 
good stock of it and let it heat and ferment, turning 
it over about once in three weeks. Another good 
way is to spread it over the ground and let it lie for 
a fortnight before digging in. Or, better still, some 
may be had abeady decayed, when it may go into 
the ground at once. Many plants and bulbs cannot 
endure fresh manure at their roots ; of these the most 
impatient I can think of are Pa}onies, Hellebores, 
Gladiolus, and Tulips. Fresh and decayed stuff is 
technically known as " long " and " short." Therefore 
it will now be understood that when we read, " Long 
stable litter is an excellent mulching material," it 
means that it is well to coat the surface of the ground 
among plants with fresh refuse from the stables. For 



202 



HOME AND GARDEN 



mulching, it does not matter whether it is old or new, 
but as the decayed or short is the more valuable for 
putting into the ground, it is a convenience in garden 
economy to use the long for mulching. So it will be 
seen that a mulch may be protective only, or it may 
be both protective and nutritious. Nothing can be 
better for the surface of a flower border than a mulch 
a good two inches deep of stable stuff without the 
straw. The sun soon bleaches it to a pale colour that 
makes the bare places on borders rather too con- 
spicuous, but by midsummer no ground will be seen 
and the health and vigour of the plants will soon 
show the virtue of the treatment. 

Mulching is also a great economy of water, for not 
only does it keep the surface of the ground cool, so 
that less watering is required, but when water is given, 
none is lost by running off or wasted by evaporation, 
but all goes in, carrying with it some of the richness 
of the protective coating. 

So much, therefore, for the necessary operations 
in naturally poor ground ; the same methods being 
equally applicable to any place where the garden has 
been neglected. 

It is obvious that when a garden is to be occupied 
for a few years only, it is not worth while to do much 
in the way of permanent improvement, though my 
own wish would always be to do some one thing in 
this way, so that I might leave the garden distinctly 
better than I found it. So that we may leave out of 



GARDENING FOR SHORT TENANCIES 203 

consideration the planting of slow-growing shrubs and 
trees, for it is only after from three to nve years that 
these make strong and regular growth. 

Let us suppose that the house is taken at mid- 
summer. No important gardening can be begun 
then, but it is always well to have a little time before- 
hand to consider what is best to be done and to see 
what the garden already contains. 

The first thing will be to see what dry rubbish 
there is, and to clear it away and burn it, keeping all 
soft rubbish, such as green weeds, leaves, &c., for 
burying deep in cultivated ground. Then, if the case 
were my own, I should look over any hard-wooded 
flowering shrubs ; many of them, such as Weigela 
and Spirosa, want cutting back after flow^ering ; not 
clipping all over, but cutting out any portions that 
look old and overworn to let more air and light into 
the younger wood. Much of this can be done more 
conveniently in the winter, but not nearly so effec- 
tively, because the healthy growth of leaves on the 
younger wood points clearly to what should be kept. 
The beautiful Weigelas especially call for this help 
in summer. 

If there are any frames and hand-lights they 
should be repaired and painted, so that they may be 
in good condition for housing anything rather tender 
through the winter and for raising seeds in a hot- 
bed in March and April. 

If there is any bare ground, or ground bearing 



204 



HOME AND GARDEN 



worthless crops, or flowering things of poor kinds, 
it had better be all deeply dug and manured so that 
it is in readiness for autumn sowing. The first 
seeds to sow will bo those of Poppies, about the 
middle of August; the great double Opium Poppies, 
Shirley Poppies, and beautiful kinds such as Po'paver 
(jlaiicum and P. tcmhrosum. Then in the first or 
second week of September we can sow Sweet Peas. 
They should be sown thinly in a shallow trench, 
say three inches deep at the bottom and sloping out 
to a width of a foot at the ground-level, and they 
should stand about four inches hiofh in the shelter of 
the trench through the winter. Other good things to 
sow at this time are Nemophila, Omphcdodes linifolia, 
tall annual Larkspurs, Pot Marigold, Platystemon, 
and annual Iberis; then we must try and beg or buy 
some biennials that were sown last May — Wall- 
flowers, Pansies, Foxgloves, Mulleins, Canterbury Bells, 
CEnothera lamarkiana, and Sweet- William. If there 
are any bedding plants worth saving, cuttings should 
be made in August. The simplest gardener knows 
how to make cuttings and how to make a hotbed, 
but any amateurs who wish to know for themselves 
should have that most useful book, "Johnson's 
Gardener's Dictionary" (George Bell & Son). 

It is difficult to make any one understand how 
very thinly annual seeds should be sown, and even 
though I know it well myself and never cease preach- 
ing it to others, I confess that I can never sow 



GARDENING FOR SHORT TENANCIES 205 

Poppy-seed so thinly as to be to my liking. In any 
case there must be a deal of thinning, for the largo 
Poppies should stand not less than a foot apart, and 
in the case of autumn-sown Nemophila and Platy- 
stemon a single plant will easity cover a yard of 
space. One often sees annual seedlings coming up 
like a thick turf, when it is almost impossible to 
thin them : it is wrong twice over, for seed is wasted 
and plants are spoiled. But if the sowing is so thin 
that the little plants come up about two inches 
apart, the easy thinning of the weaker will leave 
the stronger undisturbed, the ground is not robbed, 
and the youngsters grow on thrivingly. 

Unless the garden is unusually well stocked and 
planted, it is best to clear off all soft stuff" (annuals 
and tender bedding plants) by the middle of 
September this first year, so as to have, as it were, 
the decks cleared for action in good time. 

If there are any evergreen hedges of Yew or 
Cypress that want clipping, or any such trees that 
need careful pruning or shaping, it should be done 
in the end of August or beginning of September. 

A few hard-wooded shrubs are of fairly fast 
growth, such as the beautiful Mexican Orange- 
flower {Choisya ternata) and the large-flowered 
CeanotJms, Gloire de Versailles — both liking a 
warm soil and a warm place ; and even for a three 
years' tenancy it would be worth while to plant 
some Cistuses — grand plants for Aldershot, as they 



206 HOME AND GARDEN 



revel in light soil and sunshine — and Lavender and 
Rosemary. A whole garden could be planted with 
these alone to represent hard-wooded shrubby growths ; 
other plants specially suitable for sandy soils are 
described in the chapter already referred to. 

In many of these small camp gardens there is a 
want of shade and shelter and privacy. A capital 
hedge, ten feet high, quickly grown, handsome and 
profitable, is made by the ordinary way of growing 
Scarlet Runner Beans. Let the occupier of the camp 
garden provide a good supply of strong bean-poles, 
and a few of the hop-pole size, and he can make 
arbour, pergola, and outer screens, and have walls and 
bowers and covered ways of magnificent and quick- 
growing vegetation. The Gourd tribe alone will make 
a summer forest of gi-eat leaf and almost greater fruit. 
Grandest of all are the Potiron rmige of the French. 
The Mammoth Gourd is as large a fruit, but to my 
eye the taller-shaped is less handsome than the flatter. 
I have grown them of more than a hundred pounds 
weiirht ; this was over the low-tiled roof of some 
garden sheds. The ordinary tiles were unable to 
bear the weight, so they were replaced with a very 
large and strong tile, and each great fruit as it grew 
was provided with blocks to keep it in place. In the 
camp garden some of the lower fruits would have to 
be given strong seats such as an Army and Navy 
Stores case would provide, and higher up in arbour 
or trellis some simple bracing of short pieces of pole 




Gourds. 



GARDENING FOR SHORT TENANCIES 207 

would have to be arranged to carry the weight ; for the 
sudden descent of a fruit weighing a hundred pounds 
might be disconcerting, even if not dangerous, to any 
one who had sought the repose and shade of the leafy 
bower. I always have the seed of the Potiron rouge 
from that great French firm, Messrs. Vilmorin, Quai de 
la Megisserie, Paris. Vegetable Marrows can be used 
in exactly the same way, and there are many pretty 
varieties of smaller growing Gourds described in Messrs. 
Vilmorin's catalogue as well as in those of our home 
seedsmen. All are grown in the same way : sown in 
pots in hotbed or warm greenhouse, gi'adually inured 
to a cooler temperature when they have got two pairs 
of rough leaves, and planted out early in June with 
hand-lights or bell-glasses over them for ten days, 
more and more air being gradually given. The seed 
should be soaked for twelve hours before sowing, and 
where they are to grow, good holes must be prepared 
with a barrow-load of manure worked into the bottom 
of each, and some of the best mixed soil available, for 
the young plants to root into at the top. 

I have often thought what a beautiful bit of 
summer gardening one could do, mainly planted with 
things usually grown in the kitchen garden only, and 
filling up spaces with quickly-grown flowering plants. 
For climbers there would be the Gourds and Marrows 
and Runner Beans ; for splendour of port and beauty 
of foliage. Globe Artichokes and Sea-kale, one of the 
grandest of blue-leaved plants. Horse-radish also 



208 HOME AND GARDEN 



makes handsome tufts of its vigorous deep-green leaves, 
and Rhubarb is one of the grandest of large-leaved 
plants. Or if the garden were in shape a double 
square, the further portion being given to vegetables, 
why not have a bold planting of these grand things 
as a division between the two, and behind them a nine- 
feet-high foliage-screen of Jerusalem Artichoke. This 
Ai'tichoke, closely allied to our perennial Sunflowers, is 
also a capital thing for a partition screen ; a bed of it 
two or tliree feet wide is a complete protection through 
the summer and to the latest autumn. 

Other climbing plants of quick growth, just what 
are wanted for makino- a oood show during: Ifl short 
tenancy, are the blue Passion-flower (bought in a pot 
at the nursery and planted in spring or autumn), 
Eccremocarpics scciber, hardy in our southern counties, 
Cohcea scandeus, sometimes surviving if well protected, 
and the annual Japanese Hop. The three last are easily 
grown from seed, but Cohcea and Eccremocarjms should 
be sown in heat. The common Hop is all very well if 
it is there already, but as it is a strong-rooting peren- 
nial it takes two years to become established ; then, as 
it is herbaceous, it has every year to grow afresh from 
the root, so that it does nothing more to om* advantage 
than the annual one, while its great roots are desperate 
robbers of our poor soil. 

Still thinking of some of the questions of my 
camp visitors, and also bearing in mind the indefinite 
way in which the word " herbaceous " is commonly 



GARDENING FOR SHORT TENANCIES 209 

used, it may be well to explain that herbaceous is a 
term in botany meaning that a plant has a perennial 
root and an annual top. As there are herbaceous 
plants in all parts of the world, many not hardy with 
us, it is simpler and at the same time mere accurate 
to say hardy plants, or hardy perennials if we wish to 
exclude the mention of annuals ; and I cannot repress 
a feeling of regret when I hear people talk of " herba- 
ceouses," when they do not mean to speak of plants 
that are actually hjerbaceous, but of such as are hardy 
and suitable for the flower border ; for these include 
a good number, such as all the varieties of Broad- 
leaved Saxifrage and the Sea-Lavenders, that are 
quite hardy but not at all herbaceous. 

The camp and other garden of short tenure will 
naturally want some good hardy border plants ; and 
these must be chosen among those that will make a 
good show the first season after planting. Among 
these, three families stand out conspicuously ; for in 
light soils they require yearly transplanting, with the 
accompanying new digging and enriching of their 
places. They are the perennial Sunflowers, the per- 
ennial Asters (Michaelmas Daisies), and the Phloxes. 
The two first families especially, revel in Hght soil Avell 
manured. The Phloxes are happier in a cool strong 
soil, but they are so important in late summer that 
it will be well to say how they may be grown. The 
fact that they are all plants that increase quickly 
(from three to four-fold in the yearly growth), points 

o 



210 



HOME AND GARDEN 



to the need of also yearly division and fresh enriah- 
ment of the earth. Of the Sunflower, there are six 
kinds that I think most worthy, namely, Helianthus 
decapetalus, IT. Icetiflorus, two varieties of ff. multijiorus 
(the tall single and the shorter double Soleil dor), H. 
rigidiis, and its giant variety Miss Mellish. The good 
kinds of Michaelmas Daisy, a family that has of late 
years been much improved, are now so numerous that 
an attempt at a detailed description w^ould be too 
lengthy, but any of the good nurseries would send a 
selection of kinds if the buyer stated his wishes, such 
as for tall or short, early or late varieties. I always 
group with the Michaelmas Daisies the handsome 
tall white Daisy. Pyrethrum uliginosum. Though it is 
a plant of a different family, it is of Daisy form and 
flowers with the Asters ; and as there is as yet no very 
large white flowered Aster, it answers to the need in 
an admirable manner. Indeed I am not at all sure 
that it will not always keep its place as the most suit- 
able companion to the Michaelmas Daisies, for it must 
of necessity be a long time before a white Aster can 
be evolved that oan come into successful competition 
with its hardy nature and bounty of large white 
bloom. This fine plant also needs yearly division, 
and therefore is one of the best for the camp garden. 

The whole family of autumn-blooming Phlox is 
impatient of drought and hot sunshine. They should 
therefore be planted where they are shaded from the 
longest and fiercest of sun-heat, and in as cool a place 



GARDENING FOR SHORT TENANCIES 211 

as may be ; then if well mulched and watered they 
will do well 

The next group of plants of most importance will 
be the flag-leaved Irises, for though they flower rather 
sparingly the first year^ their bloom is at its best in 
the two years following. Other good hardy plants 
that blooin well the year after planting are Anthemis 
tinctoria, the Scarlet Balm (Monarda), Lychnis chalce- 
donica, the Heleniums, the herbaceous Spirseas, includ- 
ing the double Meadowsweet — all Spiraeas like water 
— the fine blue Cranesbill {Geranium eriostemon), the 
smaller Oenotheras, Chrysanthemum maximum. Coreopsis 
lanceolata, Gaillardia grandijiora, Nepeta, Doronicum, 
Galega, and hardy autumn Chrysanthemums. 

These plants, with a certain number of the 
cheaper bulbs, such as Gladiolus hrenchleyensis and 
G. Colvillei, The Bride; mixed late Tulips, or some 
of the cheaper of them in separate colours, such 
as T. Macrospeila and T. Gesneriana, both reds ; 
Golden Crown and French Crown, yellow and red 
and yellow respectively ; and Spanish Iris, with some 
spring-grown hardy annuals sown in place, and a 
selection of the best half-hardy annuals sown in 
heat, ought to be enough for a small garden. 
The half-hardy annuals would be Stocks and China 
Asters, Zinneas, French and African Marigolds, 
Nicotiana affinis. Maize, and annual Sunflowers, of 
which I consider the pale sulphur-coloured one is 
much the best. These have to be raised in pans 



212 HOME AND GARDEN 



in heat, and hardened and grown on in a cold 
frame till ready to put out early in June. Here 
again beware of thick sowing ; indeed, unless there 
is ample convenience for pricking out the seed- 
lings into boxes of earth, it is better to place 
each seed so spaced in the pan that the young 
plant may stand and grow without crowding its 
neighbour till planting-out time comes. 

All this advice, as will be seen, is for those who 
have not had much previous knowledge ; the kinds 
of plants can easily be increased or altered by 
those who have already some experience of plants 
and gardening. 

Hollyhocks may also be grown ; plants should 
be bought ; a good rich hole prepared as for 
Gourds will suit them, also Dahlias, but the roots 
of these nuist in winter bo kept in some place 
that is fairly dry and quite frost-proof. 

If the owner of the camp garden is ingenious 
he will make flower-boxes and fill them with 
Geraniums, bought in June at four shillings a 
dozen ; then there are the shallow open butter- 
tubs to be had of grocers — pretty flower-holders 
just as they are, lasting from two to three years, 
and longer if painted. For colour of paint for 
garden tubs or seats I should advise matching the 
grey-green of the sage-leaf. 

We ought not to forget the quick-growing 
ways of the great Japan Knot-weeds (Polygonum), 



GARDENING FOR SHORT TENANCIES 213 



growing fast and tall, or the pretty Two-flowered 
Everlasting Pea {Lathyrus grandiflorvs), a perennial 
of about the height of the Sweet Pea. This 
pretty plant is shown at the cottage door (page 47). 
And then there are the grand Nasturtiums, for 
hanging down from boxes or for growing up spray, 
or for clothing the ground with their gorgeous 
bloom, so splendid of colouring in latest autumn. 
And a plant that should not be forgotten is the 
Box-thorn or Tea-tree, often used to cover cottage 
porches or to make arbours. It is a fast-growing, 
slightly thorny shrub throwing out long arching 
sprays. The foliage is neat and the flowers rather 
pretty though not conspicuous. It will grow in 
almost pure sand. 

People who are handy and ingenious and 
willing to take trouble can do all sorts of delightful 
things in the garden. If such a case as the 
temporary ownership of a small garden in sandy 
soil had been my own, I should not only have 
put up trellis shelters and arbour frames, but I 
should have arranged to cover their winter bare- 
ness and provide the garden space with some kind 
of winter shelter. Where there is a sandy soil 
there are probably large plantations of Scotch Fir. 
I should set about finding out if I could get a 
few Scotch Fir trees — thinnings of a plantation or 
loppings of lower branches of trees on common 
lands, and I should cut them up into large branches 



214 



HOME AND GARDEN 



and in some cases whole tops, and tie them into 
arbour and trellis with osier withes. These materials 
are easily to be had in the district I have mostly in 
mind, and probably in any other there would be 
equivalents. And it does not do to give it up 
because the first person asked cannot put one in 
the way of finding out. One must ask everybody ; 
especially country carriers, old country carpenters, 
land and estate agents, auctioneers, landlords of 
public-houses where numbers of country folk call. 
And so I should make my little garden warm 
and snug in winter as well as well clothed and 
shaded with luscious leafage in summer, and it 
would only be in the keen winds of March that the 
sheltering branches would turn first pale and then 
rusty, and then we would have them down and 
make them into a neat stack in the corner where 
rubbish is burnt, to use from time to time as the 
substructure of the frequent fire-heap. 



CHAPTER XVIII 



SOME NAMES OF PLANTS 

It is interesting to try and trace some of the ways 
by which famiUar garden plants come by their popular 
names. 

Many of our oldest favourites have names only 
slightly altered from the Latin ; in this way we get 
Rose, Lily, Tulip, Pseony, Lavender, Rosemary, Violet, 
and numbers of others. Some of the most familiar 
names of the sweet-herbs of the kitchen garden 
come to us in the same way ; hence we have Mint, 
Borage, Fennel, Coriander, Thyme, and Chervil, and 
the vegetables. Carrot, Cauliflower, and Beet, and 
some trees, as Elm, Poplar, Juniper, Tamarisk, and 
Cypress. And all these names are so familiar and 
have become such good English that we forget how 
we came by them, and that they are only the Latin 
names with the corners rounded off. And of the 
older names these seem to be the most permanent, 
for though we may retain many of what one may 
call old English names, such as Canterbury Bell 
and Snowdrop, Hollyhock, Honeysuckle, and Sweet- 
William, yet a great number, though still known, 
have gone out of use. 

215 



S16 



HOME AND GARDEN 



Nobody now says Gilliflower, thougli, it is a 
much better name than the vague Carnation ; and 
the pretty Eglantine, though the sound of it is 
still known, is put away in the lumber-room of 
things not used or wanted ; and most people have 
even forgotten that it was the older name for Sweet- 
brier. And as for all that rollicking company of 
Bobbing Joan and Blooming Sally and Bouncing 
Bet, they have long been lost, reappearing only 
in the more dull and decorous guise of Wild Arum 
and French Willow and Soapwort. 

But let us treasure the best of our old plant- 
names, Sweet Sultan and Bachelors' Buttons, Eye- 
bright, Foxglove, Nightshade, and London Pride, 
and especially those that have about them a flavour 
of poetical feeling or old country romance, such as 
Travellers' Joy, Meadowsweet, Speedwell, Forget-me- 
not, Lads'-love, Sweet Cicely, Love-in-a-mist. 

Some of our popular names, as indeed are most 
of the botanical ones, are descriptive of the appear- 
ance of the flower or whole plant, or of some 
prominent form of the seed-vessel. A few examples 
are Monkshood, Snap-dragon, Pennywort, Shepherd's 
Purse, Grape Hyacinth, Cockscomb, Marestail, Dutch- 
man's Pipe, Hose-in-hose, Gardeners' Garters, Cotton- 
grass, Harts tongue. Snowdrop, Woodbine. 

Some derive names from their economic uses — 
as Broom, Spindle-tree, and Butcher's Broom — while 
others are among the oldest words of our language ; 



SOME NAMES OF PLANTS 



217 



pure Anglo-Saxon, many of them coming down to 
us almost unaltered in sound. Among this roll of 
honour are the bread-grains, Wheat, Barley, Oats, 
and Rye, also Flax and Hemp, Hazel, Heath, Bracken 
and Bramble, Oak, Ash, Yew, Beech and Holly, 
Daisy, Daffodil, Ivy, Mullein and Teazel, Nettle, 
Dock, Thistle, Rush, Sedge, Yarrow, Hemlock, and 
Groundsel. Some plants take their name from the 
time of year when they are in bloom, as May, Lent 
Lily, Christmas Rose, and Michaelmas Daisy. 

I am afraid we must allow that our ancestors 
were happier than we are in inventing names for 
garden varieties of flowers ; for when I look in 
nurserymen's plant-lists and find such a name as 
" Glare of the Garden " for a beautiful and desirable 
plant, I cannot help feeling how painfully such a 
name contrasts with the more pleasantly descriptive 
and often pretty ones, such as Parkinson quotes 
in his chapter on Carnations : Faire Maid of Kent, 
the Daintie, the Lustie Gallant, the Pale Pageant, 
the Dainty Lady. The last-named Carnation (then 
Gilliflower) we still grow, but have corrupted the 
name into the Painted Lady. It is a pretty kind 
that should be more grown, with fringed petals 
that are rosy-scarlet on the face and white at the 
back. It is not perhaps easy to get, and probably 
not much in favour in nurseries because " the grass 
has no neck " ; that is to say, the shoots, instead of 
spreading outwards with long joints at the base 



218 



HOME AND GARDEN 



that are easy to layer, have the jomts so short that 
the shoots are crowded together into one close tuft. 

Sometimes Avhen the botanical name is descriptive, 
it is simply translated into the English equivalent, as 
ReliantMis into Sunflower and Chrysocoma into Goldi- 
locks. 

Some flowers have names referring to Bible stories 
or incidents, such as Aaron's Rod, Jacob's Ladder, 
Solomon's Seal, and Star of Bethlehem, all still in use, 
though others that might be classed with them, such 
as Grace-of-God {Hypericum), Gethsemane {Orchis)^ 
and Hallelujah (Omlis) have been lost. 

Though it is undoubtedly desirable to have a 
popular name for every flower that has become 
familiar, the numbers of fine plants that have been 
introduced of late years have been many more than 
have as yet found fitting names in our own tongue. 
And in spite of vigorous eflbrt on the part of those 
who have earned the best right to give English names 
to plants comparatively new to cultivation, but now 
Avell established in English gardens, the fact remains 
that the names which are used or proposed have to 
follow that strange but undoubted law in the progress 
of language, that all words belonging to it must grow 
and cannot be made. Sometimes a new name will 
be adopted at once ; the good white and yellow 
varieties of Chrysanthemum frntescens that came to us 
from France were very soon called " Paris Daisies " by 
the market people, and Paris Daisies they remain. 



SOME NAMES OF PLANTS 219 



In this case no doubt the general want of a popular 
name was only a part of the reason for one being 
quickly found, for to many people " Chrysanthemum " 
means only the garden varieties of C. sinense, and an 
easy English name became necessary in order to 
avoid confusion. 

But language is like the horse in the proverb, 
you may lead it to the water but you cannot make it 
drink. A word that is really wanted may be invented ; 
it may be graceful and suitable and placed temptingly 
before the public eye ; it may be taken up or it may 
be left — there is no saying. 

The strangest thing of all is the way some per- 
fectly good, strong, much-wanted words drop out of 
use, such as the old English " Sperage " for Asparagus. 
Here is a fine old plant-name with its honourable 
pedigree written on its face, recalling on the way the 
ancient use of the feather-brush-like sprays of the 
wild plant in the old Roman churches of Southern 
Europe for " asperging " the congregation. And for 
some unknown reason this good old word goes out 
of use, in order to revert to the much more cumber- 
some Latin. 

In our common speech many an example may be 
found of the same capricious waywardness, that shows 
itself in neglecting the good word or in perverting it 
from its true meaning, and putting in its place some 
other word which is weaker and in all ways worse. 
In some cases a whole swarm of poor substitutes only 



220 HOME AND GARDEN 



show the more clearly how much the good old word 
is wanted, and yet it is left unused till at last it dies. 
These fine old words die first in common speech, 
though they may linger long in literature. Why are 
we shy of the good word " trustworthy," or why for 
once that it is used do we hear fifty times the 
weak and ill-constructed " reliable " or the still worse 
" dependable " ? 

Why do we hover all round the fine old verb to 
" thrust " with feebler words like " push " or " poke " 
or vulgarities like " shove " ? 

What has become of the name of the old virtue 
*' fortitude," seldom heard in speech and only living 
in the best literature ? What other word can express 
the magnificent combination of courage and endur- 
ance that we only hear spoken of in terms of school- 
boy cant as " pluck," or in those of racing slang as 
" stapng-power " 

In many cases the botanical names of plants have 
been so long in popular use that they have actually 
become a part of our language. When this is so, 
and the Latin or Greek name has become perfectly 
familiar, there is no need to cast about for an English 
one, especially in the case of those plants whose names 
are pretty and pleasant and neither long nor cum- 
bersome. So we have Iris and Ixia, Azalea, Kalmia, 
Daphne, Anemone, Clematis, Verbena, and Cistus and 
many others. They have passed into the language by 
general adoption and approval, and there can be no 



SOME NAMES OF PLANTS 221 



need of other names in their places. A few long 
awkward names such as Rhododendron have passed 
in with them, but as they are generally known they 
must also remain. 

But among well-known plant - names there are 
some curious vagaries, for we commonly call the fine 
flowering shrub Philaddplms " Syringa," which is the 
botanical name of the Lilac, and it is much more generally 
known as Syringa than by the English name Mock- 
Orange. Another example of the botanical name of 
one plant being used as the popular name of another 
is that of the family Tropceolum. Who can say why 
we call it " Nasturtium," which is the botanical 
name of the Water-cress ? 

Sometimes a plant is popularly known by its own 
specific botanical name as in the cases of Oleander, 
Auricula, and Hepatica. These are botanically Nerium 
Oleander, Primula Auricula, and Anemo7ie Hepatica. 
But there is a reasonable excuse for this practice, 
because they were classed by the older botanists under 
those names as generic which are now retained as 
specific only ; and according to botanical usage, which 
by no means disregards the concerns of etymology, this 
fact in the plant's history is recorded by the capital 
letter being retained in the specific name. 

I can only think of one English plant-name that 
is made from a true specific name. This is the Tube- 
rose {Polianthes tuber osa). It reminds me of a dear 
old garden friend and true lover of plants, whose 



222 HOME AND GARDEN 

apprehension of bofcanical names was somewhat vague, 
but whose use of them was entirely without restraint, 
who asked me if I had got any of that beautiful 
" speciosum." Putting my mind into a suitable atti- 
tude I answered, " Oh yes, and any amount of the still 
more glorious * spectabile ' " ! 

Considering how much of our language and civi- 
lisation came many centuries ago from France, it 
seems strange how few names of French origin remain 
among our flowers. There are no doubt others, but 
I can only think of Dandelion {Dent de Lion), aptly 
named after the toothed edge of the leaf. The much 
more modern " Mignonette " has a French sound but 
at any rate now is purely an English name, for the 
French for Mignonette is always the botanical name 
RMda. I often ask cottage folk what they call the 
familiar garden flowers. The answers are not always 
satisfactory, as, except in the case of those that cannot 
be mistaken, such as Rose, Lily, Pansy, and Violet, 
they are apt to apply well-known names rather in- 
discriminately. 

Indeed I have known several cases in which 
all garden flowers Avere called " Lilies," and all 
weeds " Docks." An old woman that we had some 
years ago to weed the lawn was one of those who 
held to this broad and simple distinction in 
botanical nomenclature, for though there was not 
a Dock in the grass, and her work was to fork 
up Daisies and Dandelions, Plantains and Hawk- 



SOME NAMES OF PLANTS 223 



weeds ; yet whenever one asked how she was 
getting on, and of what kmds of weeds she found 
the greater number, her broad brown face would 
beam her appreciation of the interest shown in her 
work, and her stout figure would make a sudden 
subsidence in the good old country bob-curtsey, as 
she gave the invariable answer " Docks, m'm." 

Sometimes the country folk Avill make a name 
of tkeir own. I think this must have been 
the case in a village in the south of Sussex in 
whose neighbourhood I was often on a visit to a 
dear friend, now, alas, no longer living. There 
was a grand growth of Bignonia radicans along the 
front of some cottages, whose occupiers called 
it by the capitally descriptive name of Flowering 
Ash. And from the same friend I learnt the 
most remarkable country plant-name I ever heard ; 
for she told me that one day, asking the mistress 
of a cottage home what she called the well-known 
Stonecrop with spreading heads of bright-yellow 
flowers on six-inch-high stalks that grew on the low 
old wall in front of the cottage garden, the 
woman said : " Well, m'm, we call it Welcome- 
home-husband-be-he-ever-so-drunk " ! 



CHAPTER XIX 

WILD FERJs^S 

I AM thankful to live in a place where many 
Ferns are among our wild hedge plants, and above 
all where there is an abundance of Bracken. For 
though my neighbourhood is populous, and the 
hedges of the most frequented ways have been 
stripped of their Ferns, yet I know the country 
so well for a good many miles round, that when 
I want to see any particular Fern I am nearly 
always able to find it, though it is true that some 
habitats of rather rare Ferns have been entirely 
destroyed. In one great swampy hollow, where, 
when I was a child, I remember the Royal Fern 
growing high above my head, not an atom now 
remains. It used to grow in great mounded tussocks, 
the crowns springing from a sort of raised table 
of matted black root nearly eighteen inches high. 
I remember leaning back against one of these and 
looking up and seeing how bright the sunlit rusty 
heads of flower looked against the late summer 
sky. It was then so abundant, and its home so 
little known, that there was no reason to hesitate 
about taking some pieces to plant by our ponds. 

224 



WILD FERNS 225 

I have still a strong plant, that, after several 
removals, has, I hope, found a final resting-place. 
How tough that black root-mass Avas ! no spade, 
much less trowel, would divide it ; after a first 
trial with these feebler implements we had to give 
it up and come back another day armed with 
choppers. It was no matter of regret, for the 
place was full of beauty. Such a wild bog-garden ! 
Sheets of brilliant Sphagnum covering stretches of 
soft black bog that could not be crossed, but whose 
edges might be cautiously approached. Quantities 
of the wonderful little Sundew clutching its prey; 
white plumes of the silky Cotton-grass ; tufts of 
Bog- Asphodel, neatest of small plants, with its sheaf 
of tiny Iris-like leaves and conspicuous spikes of 
deep-yellow flower ; the pale and shaggy Marsh St. 
John's Wort, and, daintiest and loveliest of wild 
plants, the tiny Bog Pimpernel, its thread-like stem 
carrying the neat pairs of leaves through the tufts 
of Sphagnum, and its flowers of tenderest, loveliest 
pink looking up to the sun. 

Then what stretches of the pink Bell Heather, 
with here and there a white one for luck, and the 
pink all kinds of pink from pale to quite a rosy 
colour. And what a joy it was to find for the 
first time, on a rather bare patch that two years 
ago some poor commoner had pared for peat, the 
Stag's Horn Moss {Lycopodium clavaticm), with its 
bright though deep green prostrate branches pinned 

p 



226 



HOME AND GARDEN 



to the dark peaty earth by the wiry white roots. 
The Northern Hard Fern (Blechnum boreale) abounds 
in the haunts of the Osmunda. Of this plenty 
remains, as it is abundant on the fringes of the 
boggy peat ground, and not being generally con- 
sidered so ornamental as some others, it escapes 
the random collector. Like the Osmunda, it has 
also a flowering spike, or rather a taller develop- 
ment of frond which alone bears the fructifi- 
cation ; the smaller and more numerous fronds 
being entirely barren. Every now and then one 
comes upon patches of Blechnum upon quite dry 
ground, but here it is always stunted and bears 
fewer fertile fronds. 

Where the wild heathland has been partly tamed 
and adjoins cultivation, and ditches have been cut, there 
is the place to look for the large and lovely Lady Fern 
{Athyrinm Filix-fo£mina). Clear and fresh of colour, 
stately of port, admirable in the perfect " set " of the 
large twice-pinnate fronds and in their grace of carriage, 
arched as they are with a plume-like bending towards 
their tips — to the Lady Fern must be accorded the 
place of honour for beauty among our native kinds. 
This lovely plant seems most at home when growing 
at the edge of water mth its roots taking up their 
fill of moisture. To see it thus, with its noble fronds 
mirrored in the face of the still pool, is to see a 
picture of fern-beauty that can hardly be surpassed. 

The only other of our wild Ferns that in my 



WILD FERNS 



227 



opinion comes at all near the Lady Fern in beauty is 
the Dilated Shield Fern {Lastrea dilatata), slightly stifter 
in form and perhaps all the better for it, for the 
only defect of the lovely Filix-fo&mina is a slightly 
succulent weakness of aspect. The broad shoulder and 
equality of plane in the whole frond are distinctive 
features in this handsome Shield Fern, and the tooth- 
ing at the edge has a look of well-finished design 
that is vigorous without being over-hard. The fronds 
are not many, but are well displayed, and the whole 
plant conspicuously handsome. 

Here and there throughout the country are large 
old wootis of Scotch Fir. Two of these adjoin boggy 
heathland, and on the shady sides of ditches and 
depressions on their outskirts, and even in their hea-rts, 
this grand Fern grows in luxuriance. 

The Prickly Shield Fern occurs here and there. 
I scarcely wish it to be more frequent, for of all the 
larger common Ferns it is the one I least admire. I 
always think it uninteresting. The colouring is dull 
and heavy, and the fronds stand in a rather upright, 
crowded way that to my eye is unsatisfactory. The 
Male Fern (Lctstrm Filix-mas), on the other hand, I 
am glad to know is the commonest of all ; a fine 
cheerful handsome thing, always a welcome sight. 
Many a hedge a little way out of the beaten track is 
full of it, and in some places in our deep-cut lanes 
it defies the collector from its inaccessible position. 
It will bear to be in a fairly dry place ; the shady side 



228 



HOME AND GARDEN 



of a hedge-bank is its most usur.l home, but it often 
occurs in great beds on the flat in hazel copses, and 
in these sheltered places will hold the fronds green 
into the dead of the winter. Cottagers are fond of 
a good tuft of Male Fern in their gardens, and in 
my own garden I use it rather largely among Rhodo- 
dendrons and for many positions at the edge of shrub 
clumps next to the grass. 

It grows capitally in London in back-gardens, 
areas, or pots ; indeed I remember reading a few years 
ago about the wild plants that had sprung up on a 
plot of land in the heart of the City, where buildings 
had been demolished, and that for two years had not 
been built upon. Among them were some flourishing 
tufts of Male Fern. 

The most frequent of the Ferns in our lanes is 
the Polypody. It seems to love our crumbling sand, 
and to establish itself among the roots of trees 
and bushes, especially on Hazels. The creeping 
rhizome laps over the Hazel roots and " plashed " 
stems, so that it is easily detached in a sort of thin 
sheet with its accompaniment of short moss and sandy 
earth. Not infrequently one flnds such a sheet of 
the Fern lying fallen at the foot of the hedge-bank, 
when the crumbling of dry sand that is always going 
on underneath has left it without support. Some- 
times whole square yards of ground at the top or 
upper part of one of our shaded sandy lanes will be 
covered with Polypody. The young fronds come up 



WILD FERNS 



229 



fresh and bright in June and stand far into the winter, 
only perishing with severe frost. 

In some places Polypodies will grow on the trunks 
and branches of rather stunted Oaks. In a wood 1 
used to know in the Isle of Wight, where a thick 
growth of small Oaks came down to within twenty 
yards of high-water mark, this was the rule rather 
than the exception ; but in my neighbourhood I have 
only seen a single case of a wood where the Polypodies 
grow on the Oaks, and that is only in one sheltered 
corner at one edge of the wood. If it happens there, 
I always wonder why it does not occur oftener. There 
are plenty of stunted Oaks about, and plenty of Poly- 
podies, why therefore does not the happy combination 
oftener come about ? 

The fine Hart's-tongue Fern is rare about here ; it 
wants a strong loamy soil. I remember a few plants 
of it in the edge of one ditch, but that ditch has long 
been buried under the raised approaches to a railway 
bridge. It is fairly plentiful a few miles to the south 
in the clay lands of the Weald. But I sometimes 
see it a few courses down the mouth of a well, grow- 
ing out of the relics of lime in the decaying joint, and 
its occurrence in a curious way in a railway wall will 
be described presently. 

The Ferns that seem to have least need of water, 
after Polypody, which is frequent in old walls, are the 
two other most common of wall Ferns, the Wall-Rue 
(^Asplenium r^da-onuraria) and the Wall Spleenwort 



230 HOME AND GARDEN 



{Asplenium trichomanes). Common in the moister 
climate of the west of England, but rare here, is the 
Scaly Spleen wort (Ceterach officinarum). Of old-estab- 
lished habitats in this neighbourhood I only know 
two. 

Twenty or more years ago a branch line of railway 
was built, passing about three miles from where I live, 
and running more or less north and south. There is 
a level crossing just at the end of one of the station 
platforms, on a road along which I often drive. Only 
a couple of years ago, when on the crossing, I saw 
something like a fringe of greenery growing out of 
the upper part of the dwarf wall facing the line, that 
brings the platform to the level of the carriage foot- 
boards. Going to see what it was, to my delight 
there was a tightly-packed little wild Fern-garden, all 
growing out of one joint of the brickwork. The edge 
of the platform and top of the wall is formed by a deep 
and wide blackish coping-brick, with a rounded edge, 
its top surface having a slight fall towards the line, in 
continuation of that of the whole width of the platform. 
Its upright face next to the line has two courses of 
bricks below it, overhanging the lower part of the wall, 
which from that point recedes about three inches. 
The lowest edge of these overhanging courses is, no 
doubt, intended to act as a " drip " for any wet that 
runs off the platform, and very likely it does so ; but 
some of the moisture evidently reaches the joint, and 
at this point grows the little Fern-garden, in the one 



WILD FERNS 



231 



joint only. Here are no less than seven kinds of 
Ferns, two of them rare in the district. The list is : 
Male Fern, Black Spleenwort, Polypody, Wall - Rue. 
Wall Spleenwort, Hart's- tongue, and Scaly Spleenwort 
{Ceterach). They grow sometimes singly, sometimes 
in a friendly group of two or three sorts together. 
I hope this may not meet the eye of any guardian of 
the line, or that if it does, that he may love Ferns. 
Of course, they do take to themselves a little of the 
lime in the company's mortar, but they are content 
with so httle sustenance that I should doubt if any 
root penetrated more than half an inch ; and mean- 
while they adorn the wall with so gracious and beauti- 
ful a trimming that to remove them would seem an 
act of wanton barbarity. 

When one sees this one spot where these little 
plants have found a dwelling, it sets one thinking 
about the millions of fern -spores that must be every- 
where flying about looking for places where they may 
lodge and grow. In all probability the minute seed- 
spores did not actually lodge in the joint where they 
took root, for it is overhung by the upper courses of 
brickwork; unless they were blown up from below, 
which seems unlikely. I should think it more prob- 
able that the spores landed on the platform and were 
washed into the joint. 

But of all our Ferns the one that is really im- 
portant in the landscape is the Bracken ; in all its 
many forms and aspects a thing of beauty and of 



232 



HOME AND GARDEN 



highest pictorial value. Growing only a foot high 
on the poorest and most exposed of our sandy wastes, 
in sheltered Avoodland its average is six to seven feet, 
while in hedges and clumps of forest brake it rushes 
up among the taller growths, and shows the upper 
ends of its fronds at a height almost incredible. How 
delightful it is by the sides of our many unfenced 
roads ; how it accommodates itself to the conditions 
of its position and graces every place. How perfectly 
it groups itself with its wild companions great and 
small; with the Heaths and fine Grasses of the moor- 
lands, with the Brambles and Thorns, Hollies, Birches, 
Junipers, and small Oaks of the wild poor ground that 
has never known the plough, Avith the thicker woods 
of Fir, where in cooler gi-ound it takes a deeper colour ; 
while in woodland openings the blue of the heavens 
is reflected in the wide-spread sheets of flattened 
frond. 

Then one thinks with satisfaction of how pleasant 
a shelter it is to living creatures, to the deer of park 
and forest, and to all the smaller feathered and furry 
folk of copse and moorland and roadside waste. 

It is not in summer only that the Bracken is good 
to see, for in winter its cheerfulness of rusty warmth 
is distinctly comforting, as we who live on the sandy 
hills well know. For when we visit our neighbours 
in the weald or in the valleys, and see the sodden 
gi'ass reeking with winter wet, and the leafless trees 
dripping, and the cold mists hanging to the ground 




Birch and Bracken in wild Woodland. 



WILD FERNS 



we come back with glad thankfulness to our warm 
dry hills with their red Fern-carpet and their well- 
clothed Firs ; to the silver-barked Birches swaying, and 
their crimson spray swishing, in the cheerful breeze 
and the clear bright light of the blessed sun. 

When I was a child, this neighbourhood, now rather 
thickly populated, was very little known. Ferns were 
plentiful in the cool lane-banks, many of them deep, 
and dark with the shade of old Hazels and Oaks nearly 
meeting overhead. Now, alas, with the increase of 
population many of our sandy lanes have become hard 
roads, and the Ferns have been torn from the hedges ; 
and though we know of some of the more secluded 
ways where they may still be seen, yet there are no 
longer the copious fringes of Polypody, and the neat 
tufts of black Spleenwort, and the grand shuttlecocks 
of Male Fern that were formerly so frequent, and that 
added so much to the beauty of the old country bye- 
ways. 

I think that many people who would be glad to 
grow hardy Ferns in quantity can scarcely know how 
pleasant and interesting it is to grow them from seed. 
Fern seeds are very minute ; they are more properly 
called spores. A frond of hardy Fern that looks quite 
mature and that bears the dark brown seed-masses 
on its back should be shaken over a sheet of paper, 
Avhen it will give off a fine dust of spores. An old 
friend who was a keen gardener and successful raiser 
of Ferns wrote out for me his method of growing these 



234 



HOME AND GARDEN 



spores, and for the benefit of others I can hardly 
do better than quote it in full. " Procure a bell-glass, 
not too flat at the top, but so shaped that the 
moisture within will trickle down the inner sides 
and not fall in drops on the surfaces of the small 
pots, for this would be certain destruction to the 
young growth, causing mildew. Have a seed-pan of 
such a size that the bell-glass goes in, leaving a little 
space all rouncj between the inner side of the pan and 
the outer side of the glass. This space ^vi\l be after- 
wards packed with pieces of perfectly cleansed sponge 
torn up. Small pots with good drainage, and filled 
with soil made of loam, leaf-mould, sand, and small 
fragments of charcoal, should be arranged in a circle 
on some paved space. Pour quite boiling water 
quickly into a fine-rosed watering-pot and well water 
the earth in the small pots, throw a sheet of paper 
over them and allow them to become stone-cold. The 
boiling water destroys all the eggs of insects, confervge, 
and other hindrances to growth. Having ready all 
your small packets of Fern-spores, you may arrange 
them so as to grow Athyrium and Scolopendrmm to- 
gether, or Polystichum and Athyrmm or any such 
mixture. By this means you can economise the room 
in the small pots, and at once see the varieties show 
themselves as they grow on. They will begin to show 
after a few weeks, first as a sort of green inflorescence ; 
this changes to small green half- transparent crumpled 
cups, and finally the first small fronds show them- 



WILD FERNS 



235 



selves. AVhen this begins, which will be after some 
two or three months, you may introduce a trifle of air 
by placing a bit of broken slate under the edge of the 
bell-glass, in a few days a bit double the thicloiess, 
and so on until you can tilt the edge of the glass a 
little. The sponge all round must always be kept 
moist with cold boiled water. The pots should be 
properly labelled. Be sure, by using a magnifying 
glass, that you are sowing the actual spores and not 
the minute spore-cases only. When parting the 
young Ferns for growing on, it is well to have the 
pots not too moist, or the young roots w^ill cling to- 
gether and be likely to get broken ; when slightly dry 
the soil falls easily from the small rootlets. Shade is 
indispensable." 



CHAPTER XX 

THE KITCHEN GARDEN 

Much as I love the flower garden and the wood- 
land, I am by no means indifferent to the interest 
and charm of the kitchen garden. For though its 
products are for the most part utiUtarian, they all 
have their life-histories, and on the rare occasions 
when I am free to take a quiet stroll for pure 
pleasure of the garden I often take it among the 
vegetables. I cannot help thinking of what immense 
importance in our life and health and well-being 
are the patiently gained developments of even one 
alone of the many families of kitchen-garden plants. 
When I have seen in rocky places on our English 
and other coasts, a straggling plant with broad glaucous 
leaves, I have always looked upon it Avith sincere 
respect ; for this wild plant is the parent of all 
the members of the great Cabbage tribe. And then 
I think of the many hundreds of years that it has 
been patiently cultivated, until little by little it has 
been driven by careful selection and keen observation 
into the many forms it now takes in our gardens 
and on our tables. For not only do the different 
shapes of Cabbage, of all sorts and sizes — round, 

236 



THE KITCHEN GARDEN 237 



flattened, or pointed — of loose, open shape like a 
rose, or tight and hard as a drumhead — come from 
this one wild plant, but also the many varieties of 
Cauliflower and Broccoli, where the parts most de- 
veloped are the flower-bud and thickened flower-stalk. 
And besides these there are the kinds selected for 
their hardiness, and by slow degrees coaxed and 
persuaded into taking the forms of the winter Kales, 
some nearly smooth of leaf, but often with the 
leaf-edges heavily curled. Then another of the 
hardiest of these winter green things is the Brussels 
Sprout, its stem thickly set Avith tiny little tight 
Cabbages just the size for a doll's dinner- table. A 
still more remarkable development of this many- 
sided vegetable is the thickening of the base of the 
stem into a turnip-like root, as in the Swede. This 
concerns the farm rather than the garden, though 
a young Swede is w^ell worth cooking. Then there 
is the Kohl-Rabi, another capital turnip-rooted 
Cabbage, in whose case the bulb-shaped swelling is 
a little higher up the stem, so that it is just clear 
of the ground, instead of being partly underground 
as in the Swede. Kohl-Rabi should be more used, 
for when cooked at just the right age it is an 
excellent and delicate vegetable. But it is not yet 
generally popular in England because it is so often 
left to grow too large. If it is brought in at the 
size of a billiard-ball, or of a thickness not greater 
than an inch and three-quarters, it is excellent, but 



238 HOME AND GARDEN 



is quite uneatable when old and full of a kind of 
network of harsh stringy fibre. We have not yet 
done with all the forms of the Cabbage, for there 
are some kinds cultivated for the sake of the 
succulent leaf-stem ; and many members of the 
whole family have a second life of productiveness, 
making top and side sprouts throughout the winter 
and far into the spring. 

Nearly related to the Cabbage is the Turnip ; 
sharing with it the botanical name of Brassica and 
\\dth a clear relationship of flavour. For broad 
practical means of distinction it is enough to 
remember that all Turnips have full-green leaves 
rough with prickly hairs, and that all Cabbages 
have smooth ones of a glaucous colour ; the only 
exception to this characteristic being those of the 
Savoy class, whose leaves are of a full and some- 
times quite dark green, with a surface that though 
smooth as to the nature of its skin, is covered with 
raised blister-like prominences that give a rough 
look to the leaf. The curly Kales have also a 
false look of roughness because their edges are so 
tightly crimped and frizzled, but the actual skin 
is always smooth. 

In a very delightful small book — I wish it were 
longer ! — entitled " Round the Year," by Professor 
Miall, there is a half -chapter about Cabbages and 
Turnips of the highest interest. He pictures to him- 
self (and to his readers) how the earliest recognition 



THE KITCHEN GARDEN 



239 



of the Cabbage as an article of food may probably 
have come about ; how the hungry savage, wandering 
on the seashore and seeing the rather succulent plant, 
tries it and finds it eatable, and by degrees brings it 
into cultivation. This picture came home to me all 
the more forcibly because I had already, many years 
ago, had the same kind of idea about another sea- 
side plant in connection with some possibly food- 
hunting Ancient Briton, who v/ould find his Sea-kale 
with its tender stems blanched, not only by its natural 
habit of rooting deeply in the loose sea-sand, but often 
to a nuich greater degree, from the increased depth 
over the plants of sand wind-blown, or high-heaped 
by the shovelling-power of tide and storm combined. 
And so my Ancient Briton would have learnt not 
only that Sea-kale was good to eat, but that it was 
all the better when, after winter storms, the tender 
young growths were pushing up through the over- 
loading covering of sand, and so he may have learned 
the general principle of earthing-up, such as we 
practise with Celery and Cardoons and some of our 
winter salads. 

I have more than once found how sweet and 
tender and how little bitter is the whitened growth 
of a wild Dandelion (near relation of the Lettuces) 
when it has been blanched and drawn out in length 
by having to grow through a mole-hill. 

Professor Miall also tells of the immense benefit 
that we have received from the Cabbages and Turnips 



240 HOME AND GARDEN 



during the last two hundred years, since their intro- 
duction and cultivation as field crops for the winter 
feeding of the live-stock of the farm. For before that 
time all sheep and cattle, except those reserved for 
breeding, were killed and salted at the beginning of 
Avinter, and the meat-eating population for several 
months of the year had salted meat only. Cases of 
scurvy and leprosy and allied disorders were then 
frequent throughout the country ; but thanks to 
Cabbage and Turnip, now in every cottage garden 
or allotment, and to their winter use on farms, those 
terrible diseases are no longer with us. 

Several important occupants of the kitchen garden, 
though not so nearly related as Cabbage and Turnip, 
come within the great botanical family of the 
Cruciferce — plants that have all four-petalled blooms. 
Among these are some of our best-known garden 
flowers, such as Wall-fiowers and Stocks, Iberis and 
Alyssum. Rape, so much cultivated on the Continent 
under the name of Colza, for the oil of its seeds, is 
botanically almost identical with Turnip. Then, again, 
Rape and Mustard are very closely connected; the 
round " Mustard " seed that we sow for the quickly- 
grown seed-leaves, as one of the firm of Mustard and 
Cress, is very often Rape seed, which does nearly as 
well. The rank weed Charlock, with rough leaf and 
yellow flower, which comes up so freely on waste 
ground and on heaps of newly- moved soil, is our 
native wild Mustard. 



THE KITCHEN GARDEN 



241 



Radishes are also nearly related to Mustard and 
Turnip; indeed the round white ones, both in leaf 
and root, are a very fair presentment of a tiny Turnip. 
All gardeners know that Radishes should be grown 
as quickly as possible; a slow-grown Radish is like 
slowly-made toast, hard and tough and distasteful. 
A learned garden-friend once said to me, " Grow your 
Radishes in nearly pure leaf-mould." I tried growing 
them in well-decayed leaf-mould without admixture in 
late summer in a half shaded place, and kept them 
well watered ; and though the leaves were a little 
drawn, never did I eat such Radishes for delicate, 
crisp, wet tenderness. 

Within the same family of Critcifercc are the 
delicious Water-cress, and the Winter-cress or Land- 
cress — eatable, but to my thinking, uninteresting — • 
and also Horse-Radish. 

Sea-kale, already mentioned in its wild state, is so 
handsome as a foliage plant, that I am using it in 
prominent places in the flower border. I only found 
out early this year what a capital table vegetable is 
the mass of crowded flower-bud, cut when at the most 
Broccoli-like stage. Indeed I might not have found 
out at all, but that I thought it well, for the encourage- 
ment of further leaf-development in some plants in 
the flower border, to cut out the whole stalk of bloom 
with its head of tight bud and thickened stem. And 
as it happened that green spring vegetables, after a 
trying drought during the last summer, were ex- 



HOME AND GARDEN 



tremely scarce, and as the bud-mass looked tender 
and much Hke a purple Broccoli, I had it cooked. It 
proved so good that even when other things are in 
plenty I shall not fail to use it again. 

The products of the large Pea and Bean tribe are 
probably of still more ancient use as human food than 
even the members of the Cabbage family. Botanically 
they are called Leguminoscc. In the flower garden 
they are represented by Sweet Peas and by several of 
the deep-rooted perennial Peas ; by Lathyrus sativus of 
loveliest green-blue bloom ; by the Spring Bitter-Vetch 
and the great Orange Vetch, handsome kinds that we 
used to know as Orohus, but that botanists now class 
all together as Lathyrus ; also by many pretty Alpine 
plants under the family names of Anthyllis, Onohrychis, 
and their allies ; and all our garden Lupins, annual 
and perennial. 

The same family includes the farmer's Clovers, 
Tares, and Vetches, Lucerne, Saintfoin, and Trifolium, 
the Broom and Gorse of our waste lands, the pretty 
rosy Rest-Harrow of the roadsides, and the Dyer's 
Green-weed, the true Flanta Genista of the Plan- 
tasfenets. 

If I had a wide upland meadow and wished to 
produce honey on a large scale, I should grow a 
quantity of the Melilotus, which I believe to be the 
finest of all bee-plants ; a trefoil of rather tall, 
branching habit. 

I wish all growing things were as clearly and 



THE KITCHEN GARDEN 243 



distinctively named as the Broad Bean ; for I know 
no plant that in nearly all its parts and phases and 
aspects displays so visibly the quality of breadth. 
What pair of seed-leaves are so absurdly broad ? and 
how broad is the leaf and the pod and the bean 
within, and how thick the stem ! But as if to redeem 
the Broad Bean from a certain stiffness and want of 
grace shown by the whole plant, there is the pretty 
flower of white and black; the white of the soft 
quality that is seen in white velvet, and the black the 
richest of brown-blacks, also of a velvety texture. 

What a delicious early summer fragrance is that 
of a flowering Bean-field, when the sweet scent is 
offered up as a grateful gift to the life-giving sun, and 
the kindly breeze blows a share of it aside to gladden 
the heart of the wayfarer. And then the Clover-field, 
delicious also with sun-released, wind-blown sweetness, 
less luscious than the breath of the Bean-flower, but 
with a modest, honeyed homeliness that bears with it 
an even greater charm. 

The first tender little green Peas, how delicious 
they are ; their delicate sweetness makes them 
almost more like some dainty fruit than a serious 
food-stuff such as comes under the rude general 
classification of " green vegetables " ; and how good 
are the first dwarf French Beans, and what a 
staunch friend of late summer and autumn is the 
trusty Scarlet Runner, 



244 HOME AND GARDEN 



Elsewhere I have mentioned how useful a thing 
this is for growing as a temporary screen or arbour. 
Working people who live just out of London often 
use it in some such way, or train it up strings to 
decorate the sides of a window. 

One of the prettiest ways of growing Scarlet 
Runners is by planting three bean-poles fully ten 
feet long in a triangle, with their bases about two 
and a half feet apart. They are put in slanting 
towards the centre of the triangle, and are tied 
together at such a height (about three feet above 
the ground) that their tops will spread to between 
six and seven feet. Three beans are sown near the 
foot of each pole; they soon run up, and when 
they are nearly full grown one or two can easily 
be led across to make garlands from pole to pole. 
Such groups in a long row some fifteen to twenty 
feet apart are quite handsome objects. Many years 
ago I learnt this piece of wisdom from an old 
cottager : " Gather your Runner Beans while they 
are straight." As the pod grows large and old they 
become curly in shape ; any time before this occurs 
they are nice and tender. 

A dish of dry Beans, soaked over-night, boiled 
and served with hot olive-oil poured over, is the 
regular main meal of many a poor family in Southern 
Italy. 

Lentil soup is about the most nutritious food 
that can be eaten ; it is a pity that it is not more 




THE KITCHEN GARDEN 245 



known and used among our own working folk, for 
not only has it the finest feeding power, but it is 
easily made and very good to eat. The "mess of 
red pottage " for which Esau sold his birthright 
could have been nothing but Lentil soup. 

Every one who has to do with horses knows how 
not only nourishing but also how highly stimulating 
are some Beans added to the usual feed. 

The large botanical order Compositce, that gives 
us so many garden flowers (Sunflowers, Michaelmas 
Daisies, Chrysanthemums, and hosts of others), is 
largely represented in the kitchen garden. All the 
varieties of salad of which Lettuce is the tjipe 
come within this order, and are themselves nearly 
related. They come under a sub-head as the 
Chicory group. This includes Lettuces, Endive, 
Dandelion, and the kinds of Chicory that we use 
for winter forcing. The wild Chicory or Succory, 
so frequent by roadsides in chalky soils, has pale 
blue flowers of a very delicate and pretty quality ; 
the stems are extremely tough, and if one wants to 
bring home a bunch of the pretty blooms and has 
no knife, it is difficult to know how to pick them. 

Being confronted with this difficulty on one 
occasion, it occurred to me that where there is 
chalk there are flints, and that moreover where 
there are broken flints a fairly sharp edge may be 
found. Luckily there was a whole heap of flints 



246 HOME AND GARDEN 



within sight for road-mending, and it was not 
difficult to find one that could be so used with a 
sort of sawing action, the stem meanwhile pressed 
against another flint of rounded form, as would 
compel the Succory plant to give up its flowers. 

The French have long cultivated a strong form 
of the common Dandelion, a winter salad that should 
be more generally cultivated, for it is quite excellent 
and very wholesome, and nothing can be easier to 
grow. It should be sown in April in an open trench ; 
by the time the nights are getting frosty in late 
autumn it should be earthed up, earthing a little 
higher as the tips of the leaves come through. A 
good line of it gives an abundant supply throughout 
the winter. All the late summer I have been watch- 
ing the development of one Avild Dandelion in a part 
of my pleasure garden. It showed such a great 
breadth of leaf and such unusual vigour that I am 
keeping it to try for salad. As soon as the seed is 
ripe, which will be about the end of next April, I 
shall sow a line, and if it fulfils its early promise it 
will be quite as good as any that I can buy. 

I sometimes eat a salad of quite wild Dandelion 
in March ; for convenience of carrying cutting up 
the whole plants, just under the top of the root- 
stock. To avoid the greater part of the bitter taste, 
which is in the juice of the mid-rib, the green part 
is torn off and makes the salad. Dandelion is 
Taraxacum, whose tonic properties are well known. 



THE KITCHEN GARDEN 



247 



Salsafy, a plant of Spanish origin, comes also 
within the large order of Daisy-flowered plants, and 
both of the Artichokes ; the Jerusalem Artichoke, of 
which we eat the roundish tuberous roots, being a 
near relation of the tallest growing kinds of our border 
perennial Sunflowers. 

The Globe Artichoke and the Cardoon, two plants 
that botanically are nearly identical, seem to me to 
be of almost more value in ornamental ground than 
in the kitchen garden ; for excellent though both are 
to eat, I think them still better to look at. But Avhen 
they are used as noble foliage plants in the pleasure 
garden, it should be remembered that if the leaves 
are to remain in beauty the flower-stems must be cut 
out. But in a group it is easy to arrange that some 
of the plants away from the edge should be allowed 
to bloom, for it is beautiful in all ways, and the mighty 
Thistle-flower with its extremely bright blue-purple 
colouring is very handsome in the late summer. In 
the kitchen garden a fresh plantation of Artichokes 
should be made every three years, for as the strong- 
growing cro"vvTis get crowded the flower-buds become 
smaller ; but when grown for ornament they can be 
left longer. 

What a prosperous-looking plantation is a well- 
grown breadth of Beet. For preference I grow the 
rather small Dell's Crimson, it is so finely coloured 
all through, never showing those pale rings that give 
such a coarse look to the cut sections. And I like 



248 HOME AND GARDEN 



its modest size, and the fine crimson of its polished 
leaves that take wonderful reflections from blue sky. 
The field Beets (Mangel) share the functions of the 
Cabbage and Turnip family as winter feed for cattle, 
but like their garden relatives they have to be harvested 
early, as they are rather tender. The other kitchen 
garden plants that are related to Beet are the quick- 
growing annual Spinach, and the more persistent 
Orache, also the less often grown perennial Good- 
King-Henry. The leaves of all these are used in the 
same way; and there is another plant, the Spinach- 
Beet, a kind with bold pale leaves that are cooked 
as Spinach, but less good than the others. 

There are not many representatives of this family 
in the pleasure garden. The greater number of them 
have rather coarse leaves and loose spikes of greenish 
flowers, but the tall annual Atriplex hortensis atro- 
sanguinea is a fine thing in late summer and autumn, 
the whole plant turning to a dull red-purple colour, 
of good effect not only out of doors, but when branches 
are cut for room decoration. But it should be re- 
membered that it is unsuitable for use in any glass 
vessels, as it dyes the water red. 

So many of the succulent plants thiit grow near 
the sea are related to the Beet family that the next 
plant that comes to mind is Purslane, an admirable 
vegetable that is far too much neglected. It is a 
near relative of the brilliant garden Portulaccas from 
Brazil. It is used in soups, especially in that excellent 



THE KITCHEN GARDEN 249 



milk-soup lonne femmey in equal proportion with Sorrel ; 
also chopped fine and stewed in stock as a vegetable 
by itself. 

The plants that bloom in umbels are well repre- 
sented in the kitchen garden — Carrot, Parsnip, and 
Celery being the most important. The wild Carrot 
has a very thin root, and strangely enough, though it 
is the parent of our mild red kitchen friend, it has a 
poisonous quality. It can always be known among 
the many wild plants whose flowers so nearly resemble 
it, by the central little flower of the umbel being of 
a crimson or purplish colour, all the rest being white. 
In the late autumn one should keep a watchful eye on 
the Carrot-bed, because some of the leaves turn to a 
beautiful red colour, that makes them good to arrange 
with flowers. 

Among the Umhelliferce of the kitchen garden are 
also Parsley, Chervil, Fennel, and Angelica. Many of 
the plants of this tribe have a pungent and aromatic 
scent and flavour, strongest perhaps in Angelica and 
in Caraway-seed ; the relationship of scent clearly 
traceable in Chervil, Celery, and Parsley ; also in that 
pretty plant, Myrrhis, that for its beauty deserves to 
bo in every garden. It is rather large in size for a 
plant of spring, and charming with its finely-cut pale- 
green leaves and really handsome flowers. It is the 
Sweet Cicely of old English gardens. 

Fennel is so handsome a plant that it is well worth 



250 HOME AND GARDEN 



a place in the flower garden ; the bold, branching 
flower-stems are thrown up in such graceful groups 
among the finely-cut foliage, that when well grown it 
is really a better thing than the Giant Fennels of 
North Afi'ica. It is not, of course, so tall or so large 
all over ; but, though I have become intolerant of 
anything at all rubbishy among garden plants, I think 
the common Feimel is not so well treated as it deserves. 
It was only quite lately that I learned how good a 
thing it is in a cut state, when I saw in a neigh- 
bour's house a simple and excellent arrangement of 
the strong yellow Fennel-flower and foliage of Spanish 
Chestnut. 

Among garden plants we have not many of the 
Umlelliferoe. There is the great Cow -Parsnip {Herac- 
lium), a fine thing for a cool or marshy place ; and 
there are the gTand Sea - Hollies {Eryngium), with 
floAvers arranged in a way quite diflerent to that of 
the larger number of the class ; and but few others. 
But the Umhelliferce give us one most pestilent weed, 
namely, Goutweed {JSgopodium), looking and smelHng 
like a small Angelica; its quick-running roots, once 
allowed to invade any piece of ground, are almost 
impossible to get out. 

A good crop of Onions is a joy to the culinary 
corner of the gardener's heart, and I always think 
there is something highly pictorial about the great 
silvery seed-heads of the few we keep for seed, borne 



THE KITCHEN GARDEN 251 



high on the tall flower-stalk Avith its curious swollen 
base. Shallots stand like soldiers in their ranks, so 
neatly and evenly do they grow, with their dark- 
green upright leaves looking like well-to-do patches 
of Jonquil. Chives is a neat edging-plant, growing 
in close tufts, the chopped leaves good in salads. A 
row of Leeks is a pleasant sight, both growing and 
served in a dish as a green vegetable ; the mildest of 
all the Onion tribe. The Avild Garlic is such a pretty 
plant, Avith its heads of AA^hite flowers and broad deep- 
green leaves like those of Lily of the Valley, and 
makes such fine sheets of good green foliage in some 
of the neighbouring Avoods, that I am ahvays tempted 
to naturalise it in the home copse, being only deterred 
by its extremely rank and unpleasant smell Avhen 
touched, or even when only stirred by the Avind. 

There are several Garlics (Allmm) in garden 
cultivation, the one best knoAm being the yelloAv- 
flowered Allium Moly. Then there is the useful A. 
neapolitanum, so much imported as an early market 
flower; and one very handsome one Avitli a tall stalk 
and round head of a really good blue (A, azureum), 
a native of Siberia, not at all common in gardens. 
There are several garden kinds Avith dull pink floAvers, 
but I do not think them of much importance. 

At first sight there does not seem to be much 
connection between Potatoes and Tomatoes, and yet 
they are nearly related, and bear the same botanical 



252 



HOME AND GARDEN 



name of Solanum, and come from tlie same region, 
the northern parts of South America. But the hke- 
ness is shown in the flowers, and a good deal in the 
leaves, also the round berries of the Potato are not 
unlike the just-formed fruits of the Tomato. Another 
of these South American Solanums is the Egg-plant, 
the Aubergine of the French, seldom seen in our 
country, as even under glass we do not manage to 
grow it well. 

Many of these Solanums have a curious and rather 
disagreeable smell ; it is strong in the foliage of the 
Tomato, and perceptible in the woody Nightshade 
{Solanum dulcamara) of our woods and waste places. 
The leaves and stems of the Tomato have a covering 
of some kind of soft structure that breaks down and 
rubs off by even gentle handling. When training 
Tomatoes one's hands become covered with the clammy 
greenish moisture that dries upon them in successive 
coats. When the job is done and hands are washed, 
the stuff washes off by degrees, dyeing the water a 
bright yellow colour, and it takes quite four washings 
before it can all be got off. 

Hardy in the south of England and always beau- 
tiful, is the far-trailing creeper Solanum jasminoides ; 
some of the sprays of foliage turning to a deep 
bronze-black colour that contrasts admirably with 
the tender white of the flowers. Solanum crispum is 
a grand wall shrub in our southern counties, loaded 
in April and May Avith its many-flowered clusters of 



THE KITCHEN GARDEN 



253 



lavender-lilac bloom. Other Solanuiris desirable for 
the garden are S. aviculare and S. Warscewiczii, strong 
growing annuals with handsome foliage, making im- 
portant bushy gTowths that Avill occupy a cubic 
yard of space. Allied to the Solanums are the 
Daturas, of which the splendid D. meteloicles and its 
double variety D. Wrightii are some of the grandest 
objects either for cool greenhouse, or as tub-plants to 
stand out in summer. 

In these slight notes suggested by a walk round 
the kitchen garden I have only attempted to notice 
a few of the more important of its occupants, and to 
show how, to me, the interest of every one of my 
garden crops is much increased by reflections about 
their origin and development, and their relationship 
to each other and to our garden flowers and wild 
things; but there is another aspect that I always try 
to keep in view. It is that, wherever it ma}^ be 
possible, they should be grown in ways that are 
beautiful and interesting, such, for instance, as the 
way described of growing the Runner Beans on poles. 
And one class of plants, those of the Gourd tribe, 
can be used in many beautiful ways, for covering any 
unsightly bank or mound, or to make a temporary 
screen, or to train over the roofs of low sheds. 
These plants may be either the Vegetable Marrows, 
or any of the many ornamented Gourds, great or snmll. 
And one other department of the garden is a source 



254 HOME AND GARDEN 



of pleasure, namely, a border or little garden for 
the sweet-herbs. Where house and garden are newly 
made I like to arrange places for these herbs, not in 
the kitchen garden only, but that there should be 
also close to the house, and somewhere near the door 
that gives access to the kitchen, a little herb-garden 
for the cook, so that any herb can be had at once. 
Here should be two or three plants each of - the 
Thymes, Basils, and Savouries, Tarragon and Chervil, 
a bush of Sage, some clumps of Balm, Marjoram, and 
Fennel, Soup-celery and Parsley for flavouring, Borage 
and a little Mint, and within reach a Bay-tree. 

It is much better for the cook to go out and 
compose the little hoiiquet for the special flavouring 
of some delicate soup or sauce, picking the right 
quantity and proportion straight from the fragrant 
growing things. Moreover, having them all before 
her, she has a better chance of getting a knowledge 
of their natures and separate identities, and the little 
plants and their ways and uses must necessarily acquire 
in her eyes a more distinctly living interest. 



CHAPTER XXI 

THE HOME PUSSIES 

My pussies play an important part in my small home 
circle. They are my dear companions both indoors 
and out. I love their pretty gentle ways and their 
extremely interesting individualities, for though I 
always have four or five, no two that I have ever 
known have been the least alike ; indeed they are 
almost as unlike as so many human folk. And when 
I meet with people who say they do not like cats, I 
always find that they are quite unacquainted with cat- 
nature, and have certainly never been on purring 
terms with any one individual pussy, but have a 
general notion that a cat is necessarily treacherous 
and ill-tempered and uninteresting. 

I think I may venture to affirm that no one who 
has carefully and kindly brought up a kitten from its 
birth, could fail to find it first a charming playmate 
and then a firm friend. But it must bo very gently 
and kindly treated, from the time when it makes its 
first excursion from its mother's basket, and long be- 
fore it has any other food than its mother's milk. 

It must be taug-ht to know that a hand is a kind 
thing. My pussies learn this for their first lesson and 

255 



256 HOME AND GARDEN 



never forget it ; so much so, that if they see a hand 
lying idle they are very apt to give it a friendly 
nudge and to say, "What is that hand doing, not 
stroking ME ? " 

I much prefer cats of the common short-haired kind. 
They are stronger and hardier than the long-haired 
breeds, and the short fur always looks and feels much 
cleaner and brighter, and they can keep it nice them- 
selves without any need of adventitious grooming; 
and there are never those long periods — nine months 
out of the twelve it always seems to me — when the 
owner is apologising for a ragged ruff or a Avispy tail. 
And then the short coat allows one to see the beauti- 
ful structure, and every detail of lithe bound and 
lively caper, and all the infinitely varied and graceful 
movements that are so pleasant to watch. 

Tabby and white is my favourite colouring. I 
have two all tabby without white, and dear pussies 
they are ; but for appearance I like them better with 
white fronts and paws ; it makes them look so clean 
and well-dressed. The word " tabby " has an interest- 
ing etymology ; coming from an Arabic root, and 
always signifpng something striped or waved or 
brindled, whetlier of animal's coat or of woven fabric. 
Hence also the word " tabinet " for a woven stuff of 
striated surface ; and doubtless the same word cor- 
rupted is the " tabouret " of the modern upholsterer, 
the name of a woven silk stuff whose design is always 
in stripes. It was much in use at the beginning of 



THE HOME PUSSIES 



257 



the century, and has been reproduced and now again 
finds favour. 

June 18. It is a perfect summer day, and I sit 
looking down one of the broad turf rides in the copse 
and see a dark object slowly approaching. By the 
solemnity of the stately advance I know it must bo 
Pinkieboy. His movements are more than usually 
deliberate, for he had a rabbit this morning. He 
brought it, half-eaten, to show me. Tabby was fol- 
lowing at a respectful distance, occasionally licking 
his lips as if asking for a share, but Pinkie only 
looked round and gave a short growl, which evidently 
meant, " Better go and catch a rabbit for yourself." 

He is capable of extraordinary activity, and yet 
often assumes an affectation of pretending that he 
cannot go fast. For when we walk leisurely through 
the garden or copse together, he following a yard 
or two behind, when a bush or a turn of the path 
hides me from view, he will utter the most lament- 
able cries, as if begging not to be left behind ; then, 
when he has pretended enough, he will be up with 
me in one bound, purring and rubbing and asking 
if that wasn't a real good joke ? 

When we meet after an unusual separation of 
a few hours, as he sees me coming he prepares 
himself for a good five minutes of pleasant con- 
versation. Its subject is always the same, namely, 
unqualified admiration and approval of Pinkieboy. 
About a yard away he slowly lies down and solemnly 

R 



258 



HOME AND GARDEN 



makes a beautiful " tuck-under " to invite a good 
stroking. I always respond and encourage the 
pretty trick ; a sort of dive of the head and a half 
roll over, bringing his beautifully-kept white waist- 
coat and shirt-front uppermost — a gesture peculiar 
to a good-natured and well-brought-up pussy. It 
is an expression of perfect confidence. It always 
seems to say : " I make a polite bow, and put myself 
in the most helpless attitude, and offer my finest 
and softest fur for your kind stroking. You see 
my paws are half curled inwards, and my claws are 
all put away in their black velvet pads." 

Pinkieboy is a big heavy cat, silver tabby and 
white ; that is to say, the groundwork of his large 
black tabby markings is a cool silver-gi'ey, not a 
brownish colour. Part of his face is white, and he 
has a good deal of white underneath, and white 
hind-legs and fore-paws. 

Tittlebat is a cat of rather lighter build, without 
any white. Dark tabby as to face and legs, with 
unusually distinct black markings. The top of his 
head, instead of having close parallel stripes, is all 
black, his back is also all black. His ears are of a 
dark cool umber colour richly shaded to the tips. 
His sides are curiously marked with a close vertical 
brindling of black, about three stripes to the inch, 
on a pepper and salt ground. His coat is the finest 
and smoothest I ever saw or felt, so that in some 
lights, reflecting the sky, he looks as if he was 



THE HOME PUSSIES 



259 



coated with a silver-blue polish. But his greatest 
merit is his charming disposition ; kind and gentle 
and affectionate. He has the prettiest way of chir- 
ruping a welcome. If I pass him without notice 
he softly says, " Courooroo," which means, " Here I 
am ; don't forget your pussy." If he wishes to leave 
the room he goes to the door and says, " Croo-ee " 
(please let me out). English is a noble language, 
but certainly the pussy tongue is more concise ! 

He likes nothing better than to have the charge 
of young kittens. When there is a little family 
he takes upon himself the functions and responsi- 
bilities of head nurse, grooming the kittens and 
taking care of them when the mother leaves the 
nest for food or exercise, and as they grow older 
playing with them so gently that they are not 
aware of his greater strength and weight. 

When I am busy in the workshop he likes to 
be given my garden jacket to lie on, and wherever 
I put it there he remains ; or if I am at my 
writing-table he likes to have a chair next to 
mine, so as to be within easy stroking reach ; and 
whenever I put down a hand I am sure of a kindly 
rub of his silky head, beginning with a touch of a 
cool wet nose. 

There is a certain age at which a kitten makes 
sudden rushes across a room in a perfectly straight 
line, reminding one of the way small fishes dart 
across a stream. In this dear pussy's case this 



260 HOME AND GARDEN 



habit was so unusually marked that I thought I 
would call him after some little fish, hence his 
name of Tittlebat. 

Patty is the latest importation from the outer 
world. She is a small cat and I fear will never 
be much bigger, for she had her first kittens when 
she was not much more than half grown. I always 
like, if possible, to bring up my own pussies from 
smallest babyhood ; but to my sincere grief I lost 
my dear mother-pussy, Toozle, from an internal 
disorder that the doctor told me could not have 
been cured. And as I always like to have the 
pleasure of bringing up a succession of kittens, I 
cast about for one to replace her as the mother 
of future broods, and found little Patty close at 
hand. She attracted me by being the tabby and 
white pattern that I like best, and by her beautiful 
great aqua-marine eyes and her pretty way of mov- 
ing. When she first came she was rather incHned 
to bite and scratch, and though still sometimes a 
little wild, by much gentle handling and good treat- 
ment she has greatly improved, and I hope will 
soon be nearly as tractable as one of genuine home 
growth. 

Her little boy Tommy is my latest pet, and 
promises to be a handsome and charming addition 
to our pussy-folk. He is with me in the morning 
when I open my letters, and is the one who has most 
appreciation of the many trade circulars brought by 



THE HOME PUSSIES 



261 



the early post. Most of them are printed on thm 
crackly paper, and when loosely crushed in the hand 
they make nice balls that he butts and tosses and 
chases all over the room. Or if I throw them mto 
the waste-paper basket, he jumps on its edge, and 
tips it over and hunts out its ample contents for 
liberal distribution about the floor. And when we 
have the usual pussy-parade on the lawn at about 
seven on summer evenings ; when, in turn with the 
bigger ones, he has had some good runs and jumps 
at the feather on the end of a whip which is the 
orthodox plaything, in pure delight of frisk and frolic 
he executes a pas seul on his own account, making a 
rapid series of monkey-jumps with high-arched back 
and helm hard a-port. 

His mother is instructing him in the art and 
mystery of mousing, bringing him a mouse a day, 
and sitting by and watching while he goes through 
his mouse-drill, and finally eats up the poor little 
victim. 

Cats are generally supposed to keep a house free 
from mice. We have no mice in the house except 
those they bring in. A rabbit's or hare's foot or a 
bit of rabbit-fur is a favourite plaything, or a feather. 
When Tittlebat was a youngster he had a rather 
large white chicken's wing that he would always carry 
about with him. One evening lately Patty came 
running down the front stairs with (as I thought) her 
bit of rabbit-fur. She goes up the back-stairs, along 



262 HOME AND GARDEN 



the oak-beamed gallery, and down the main stairway 
which comes straight into the sitting-room. It was 
after dinner, and I was sitting reading with little 
Tommy on my lap. Patty came down the stairs at 
a sharp trot, calling her kitten, who jumped down to 
go to her. They often have a game of play together 
between dinner and bedtime, and though the game 
was rather more active than usual I thought nothing 
of it, although I did hear some squeaks not quite like 
the kitten's. The pussies were taken away to bed at 
ten o'clock, and it was not till the next morning, when 
they were let in again, and they made straight for 
the sitting-room, where the housemaid found a grand 
rabbit-hunt going on, that the unusual squeaks and 
the extra play of the evening before were accounted 
for. The bit of rabbit-fur that Patty brought down 
the stairs had a little rabbit inside it ! The poor 
little beast must have passed a frightened night in a 
corner of the room, where the pussies found him again, 
and continued their interrupted hunt. We thought 
that this time the baby-bunny should be let off, for 
though they are so mischievous in the garden that 
we do all we can to get rid of them, yet this one 
was so young and so pretty, and cried so piteously, 
that he was given his liberty, and away he scuttled 
off into the wood. 

Each grown-up pussy chooses a different garden 
region as his special domain. Pinkioboy has his own 
jungle, a small thicket close to the house, where 



THE HOME PUSSIES 



263 



there is a young Oak-tree and several Hollies and 
Junipers, with an undergrowth of Cistus, Bracken, 
and long grass. He makes regular lairs, that retain 
their shape, and look like grassy tunnels. The little 
nieces call them the Pussy-lie-downs. No other cat 
is ever to be seen in one of Pinkie's lie-downs ; he 
would resent it as an ill-mannered intrusion, and the 
others quite understand that it would be considered 
a breach of etiquette. Tittlebat's sphere of influence 
extends over the Primrose garden and the region of 
Yew, Birch, Chestnut, and Bracken that surrounds it. 
Tabby, a fine whole-coloured silver tabby, frequents 
the nut-walk and pergola, and considers himself the 
warden of two gates, the hand hunting-gate through 
the Yew hedge and the five-barred gate that crosses 
the back road behind the summer-house. Both gates 
have mre-netting over their lower halves to prevent 
the passing of rabbits ; indeed but for this necessity 
neither gate would be there. When Tabby and I 
are walking near either of the gates he runs on and 
mounts one of the posts, and we play the game of 
Gate-post. It is an easy game, and we both enjoy 
it. Tabby on his post is petted and stroked ; I then 
execute a rapid passage with my fingers along the 
top rail of the gate to the other post. Tabby rushes 
along and establishes himself firmly on the second 
post. More stroking on my part and responsive 
rubbing on his ; then back to the first post, and so 
on till we have both had enough for the present. 



264 



HOME AND GARDEN 



The one thing that mars one's happiness with one's 
pussies is an ever-present fear, and its, alas ! too fre- 
quent reahsation, of loss by wandering. Sometimes 
one of them will be away for a day, or for two days, 
and then comes home again. When this happens, we 
suppose that a big rabbit has been caught and has 
provided heavy meals for two days, with long sleeps 
of satiety in the intervals. The dangerous time is 
at about a year old, when the cat is at its full young 
strength and gi'eatest activity. The one most recently 
lost was not quite a year old, the most active cat I 
have ever known, and the most bright and frank and 
fearless. My pretty Mittens ! with softest coat of 
large dark tabby markings on a golden ground, and 
snowy-white front and paws. I always feared he 
would go some day, the spirit of adventure was so 
strong in him. He was like a ray of sunshine about 
the place, with his pretty bright ways and delicious 
fearless insolence. Sometimes I would hear a commo- 
tion among the driving whips hung up just inside the 
entrance from the court, and knew I should have no 
peace till I had taken the pussy-whip with the long 
lash and the feather at the end and given him a 
grand racing and jumping on the lawn; when he 
made a big jump he seemed to be almost flying. One 
day he performed a feat of agility that I never saw 
before, and should hardly have thought possible. I 
was playing the feather over him as he lay on his 
back, with all four paws extended upwards trying to 



THE HOME PUSSIES 265 



reach it, and in that position, by some sudden and 
violent action of the muscles of the back, he jumped 
himself clear off the ground and forward about nine 
inches, coming down again in the same position before 
attempting to " right " himself. 

What happens to them when they wander and are 
lost I know not, but my longest frontier is obviously 
full of danger, for it adjoins a lengthy stretch of 
woodland where game is preserved. I only know that 
every dear pussy that is lost leaves a sad blank in 
the house and garden, and a very sore place in our 
hearts. 

I know all my pussies in the dark, not only by 
the feel of their coats, but by the different tone and 
quality of then- purr. A kitten's purr is rather hard 
and rattly, high-pitched and unmelodious. 

Pinkieboy's purr is of a grand quality, extremely 
deep in tone, not loud, but highly musical — a purr 
of the highest distinction. The sound of it always 
reminds me of the deep, rich sound of the whirring 
wings of the Humming-bird Hawk- moth ; indeed the 
two sounds are so nearly alike that I never hear the 
one without thinking of the other : it may be that 
they arc upon the same note. 

I am sure that cats have a strong sense of fun, 
and, like children, love the delights of make-believe. 
Two of them will meet on the lawn, and with ears set 
back and lashing tails will play at having a mortal 
combat. In the fiercest of the fray, when the limbs 



266 HOME AND GARDEN 



of the wrestlers are locked in deadly fight, they will 
suddenly stop and lick each other's faces. I had two 
own brothers who were specially fond of this fun. 
They were the best of friends, were scarcely ever apart, 
and slept in the same hay-bed, but the daily mock- 
combats were fearful to see. A mother-pussy lashes 
her tail for her kittens to play with, looking round 
out of the corner of her eye to see if he is taking 
notice. A small kitten, just learning to mouse, will 
toss up a ball of wool or a bit of fur and make an 
imaginary mouse of it. And my pussies always enjoy 
the game of Tigers in the Jungle, that we play in a 
large group of Bamboos, with a slender stick rattled 
among the canes. And any little game that I invent 
they understand and adopt at once ; and if it is 
repeated two or three times they remember, and dis- 
tinctly beg that it may be repeated. And in all ways 
I find them kindly appreciative and grateful for 
friendly notice; so that if I pass through a room and 
pause for a moment to contemplate an apparently 
fast-asleep pussy, I have only to say " Patty, darling," 
and I see the last two inches of her pretty tail just 
raised and lowered in courteous acknowledgment, and 
hear a few drowsy vibrations of responsive purr. 

Last winter I iiad a visit of a week or two from 
my youngest niece, of nine years old. Wishing to 
have some small jollification before she went home, I 
thought it would be nice to have a pussies' tea-party, 
and as the prospect delighted her, we set to work 



'it- ho 



,1 k ... i 
E 



'^s Li ow\ 



M,ss Jckyll 

i I fivmt 0. clock 

Mr T,t / .bat ^'-^^ "y'l 

' / A. .., , ^ -^). 



The Invitations. 



THE HOME PUSSIES 



267 



to talk it over in earnest. No time was to be lost, 
for it was to be the next afternoon. So we sat down 
and seriously considered the items of the bill of fare. 
After some consultation, we decided that the basis 
of it should be fish, so we sent for some fresh herrings, 
and they were boiled and held in readiness. 

Meanwhile my little companion proposed to issue 
cards of invitation, and said that she would write 
them herself. I asked if she could do them in the 
proper way, and as she was sure she could, I offered 
no further suggestions, and waited to see what Avould 
appear. So she found some scraps of Avri ting-paper 
and wrote the invitations, and we went round together 
and presented them to the pussies, who duly purred 
their acceptance. They were all indoors^ as it was 
wintry weather. 

Next day, early in the afternoon, we prepared the 
feast. The invited guests were four grown pussies 
and two kittens, so we got ready four large and two 
small saucers. First a thick strip of fish was laid 
right across each saucer ; an equal strip of cold 
rice pudding met it transversely, forming a cross- 
shaped figure that left four spaces in the angles. 
Thick cream was poured into these spaces, and the 
solid portion was decorated with tiny balls of butter, 
one rather larger in the middle, and two smaller on 
each of the rays. A reserve of fish and cream was 
to be at hand to replenish the portions most quickly 
exhausted. 



268 HOME AND GARDEN 



In the middle of the sitting-room we placed a 
small, rather low, round table ; and four stools were 
ranged round for the bigger pussies. As the hour 
for the feast drew near, much was the wondering 
as to how the guests would behave. They were to 
sit on the stools with their fore-paws on the edge 
of the tablecloth. We decided not to have flowers, 
because it would have overcrowded the space, as the 
two kittens were to be allowed to sit on the table. 

At last the hour came, and meanwhile the excite- 
ment had grown intense. Five grown-ups were pre- 
sent, all as keenly interested as the little girl. The 
pussies were brought and placed on their stools, and 
the kittens, Chloe and Brindle, were put up to their 
saucers upon the table. To our great delight they 
all took in the situation at once ; there was only a 
little hesitation on Maggie's part ; she thought it 
was not manners to put her paws on the tablecloth ; 
but this was soon overcome, and they all set to work 
as if they were quite accustomed to tea-parties and 
knew that nice behaviour Avas expected. 

It was good to watch the pleasure of my little 
niece. I had expected that she would rush about 
and scream with delight, but she stood perfectly 
silent and still, with hands half raised, mouth a little 
open, and big eager eyes drinking in the scene, as if 
she thought it would vanish if she made a movement. 
Meanwhile the small guests were steadily eating 
away at then- portions. Pinkieboy, as became the 




Tabby. "Cat in a Window's Game.'' 



THE HOME PUSSIES 



269 



oldest and heaviest, finished his first, and after Hcking 
his saucer quite clean, and then his owji lips, he looked 
round and clearly said, "That was very good, and 
please I should like a little more, especially fish and 
cream." 

When they had all done there was a grand pur- 
ring and washing of paws and faces before they got 
off their stools, and as they dispersed to find cosy 
sleeping-places, as wise pussies do after a comfortable 
meal, we all thought that our little party had been 
brilliantly successful, and had even some thoughts of 
sending a report of it to the Morning Post, 

Many years ago, when Kew was a place of royal 
residence, and my father was quartered there with 
a detachment of his battalion (1st Batt. Grenadiers), 
frequent were his drives Avith some brother officer 
between Kew and London. And to beguile the tedium 
of the way they would lay a mild bet on the number 
of cats seen, each taking his own side of the road. 
But a cat sitting in a window summarily decided the 
game in favour of the one on whose side the pleasing 
picture was displayed. 

And in my father's later years, when I used 
to drive with him in the country, at the sight of 
a pussy in a cottage window, his face would light 
up with a merry twinkle, and I always expected 
and never failed to hear the well-known formula, 
" Cat in a window's Game ! " 



270 



HOME AND GARDEN 



I have only once seen a pussy in church. It 
was not a parish church, but the chapel of one 
of the great London hospitals. The congregation 
was assembled and was awaiting the entrance of 
the chaplain, when a young pussy of an age some- 
where between cat and kitten solemnly marched, 
with tail erect, up the middle gangway. Without 
hesitation, and as if fulfilling a usual duty, he 
made for the reading-desk, entered it, and for an 
instant was lost to view. But a moment later 
head and shoulders appeared above the desk, and a 
small wise face looked round with an air of quiet 
assurance and professional unconcern. I quite ex- 
pected to see the little paws reverently folded, and 
to hear a tiny voice say : " Let us purr " ! 



CHAPTER XXII 
THINGS WORTH DOING 

The heading of this chapter might embrace the 
conclusions of all the deepest philosophies, but none 
the less has relation to the simplest thoughts and 
acts of every-day life. Is it worth having ? Is it 
worth doing ? These questions form a useful 
mental sieve, through which to pass many matters 
in order to separate the husk from the grain. 
And nowhere have we occasion to use it with 
more vigour than in matters pertaining to the 
garden. 

When I had less knowledge of garden flowers 
and shrubs than I have been able to gather 
through many later years, I got together all the 
plants I was able to collect ; not with a view to 
having them as a collection, but in order to 
become acquainted with them, the better to see 
which I could use on my own ground or re- 
commend to others whose gardens were of different 
natures. And in this way I have discarded 
numbers of plants, some because I thought them 
altogether unworthy, some because the colour of the 
flower displeased me, others because they threatened 

27J 



272 



HOME AND GARDEN 



to become troublesome weeds, and others again be- 
cause, though beautiful and desirable, they were very 
unhappy and home-sick in my diy soil, and it was 
quite evident that they were no plants for me. 
Several of these were natives of the Alps, that 
missed the cool shade of the towering rocks, and 
the constant trickle of moisture to the root, and 
the overhead bath of mountain mist. It is only in 
the case of a thing so indispensable as the White 
Lily that I go on trying against nearly certain 
failure, and hoping almost against hope, and am re- 
warded perhaps only one year in seven by a clump 
doing fairly well, in spite of having carefully tried 
all the recipes and nostrums kindly given me by 
my many friends of highest horticultural ability. 
Still the White Lily is one of the good things 
worth doing, and after all, as a last resource, one 
can pot it in loam and lime and so compel it to 
live and flower. 

But the stores of the rubbish-heap were much 
enriched by the many plants that seemed to me 
unworthy, or of which better garden kinds could 
be had ; so all my older clumps of Michaelmas 
Daisies found their way there — it was twenty years 
ago, before the grand modern ones had been much 
cultivated — and a whole set of the oldest of the 
garden forms of the albiflora Pseonies, as well as 
many other unworthy individuals. 

And I found that one thing well worth doing was 



THINGS WORTH DOING 



273 



to get together as many kinds as I could of any one 
plant in general cultivation, and grow them together, 
and compare them at their blooming season and see 
which was really the best and most beautiful ; for in 
equal or even greater proportion with the growth of 
critical appreciation, there comes an intolerance of 
rubbish, and by the constant exercise of the critical 
faculty the power of judging becomes unconscious, 
and, as it were, another natural sense. And though 
I am far from venturing to think that the conclusions 
of my judgment are infallible, yet I believe that they 
are soundly based and of good general utility, and 
therefore fairly trustworthy for the guidance of 
others. 

I think it is a fair test of the genuineness of the 
profession of the many people who now declare that 
they love plants and gardens, to see if they are willing 
to take any trouble of this kind for themselves. For 
though there are now whole shelves-full of the helpful 
books that had no existence in my younger days, yet 
there are many things that can only be ascertained by 
careful trying in individual gardens. 

Now that there is so much to choose from, we 
should not let any mental slothfulness stand in the 
way of thinking and watching and comparing, so as 
to arrive at a just appreciation of the merits and uses 
of all our garden plants. 

It is not possible to use to any good effect all the 
plants that are to bo had. In my own case I should 



m HOME AND GARDEN 



wish to grow many more than just those I have, 
but if I do not find a place where my critical garden 
conscience approves of having any one plant I would 
rather be without it. It is better to me to deny 
myself the pleasure of having it, than to endure the 
mild sense of guilt of having placed it where it neither 
does itself justice nor accords with its neighbours, and 
where it reproaches me every time I pass it. 

I feel sure that it is in a great measure just 
because this is so little understood, that gardens 
are so often unsatisfactory and uninteresting. If 
owners could see, each in their own garden, what is 
the thing most worth doing, and take some pains to 
work out that one idea or group of ideas, gardens 
would not be so generally dull and commonplace. 

Often in choosing plants and shrubs people begin 
the wrong way. They know certain things they 
would like to have, and they look through catalogues 
and order these, and others that they think, from the 
description, they would also like, and then plant 
them without any previous consideration of how or 
why. 

Often when I have had to do with other people's 
gardens they have said : "I have bought a quantity 
of shrubs and plants ; show me where to place them ; " 
to which I can only answer : " That is not the way 
in which I can help you ; show me your spaces and 
[ will tell you what plants to get for them." 

Many places that would be beautiful if almost left 



THINGS WORTH DOING 275 



filone are spoiled by doing away with some simple 
natural feature in order to put in its place some 
hackneyed form of gardening. Such places should be 
treated with the most deliberate and careful considera- 
tion. Hardly a year passes that I do not see in my 
own neighbourhood examples of this kind that seem to 
me extremely ill-judged. Houses great and small are 
being built on tracts of natural heath-land. A perfect 
undergrowth of wild Heaths is there already. If it is 
old and overgrown, it can be easily renewed by clearing 
it off and lightly digging the ground over, when the 
Heaths will quickly spring up again. Often there are 
already thriving young Scotch Firs and Bhches. 

Where such conditions exist, a beautiful garden 
can be easily made at the least possible cost, jealously 
saving all that there is already, and then using in 
some simple way such plants as I have recommended 
in the chapter on Plants for Poor Soils. The presence 
of the Scotch Fir points to that being the best tree to 
plant in quantity ; and the few other trees that will do 
admirably in dry light soils. Birch, Spanish Chestnut, 
Holly, and Juniper, will give as much variety as can 
be wanted by a sober mind that understands the value 
of temperance in planting. 

There are many people who almost unthinkingly 
will say, " But I like a variety." Do they really think 
and feel that variety is actually desirable as an end in 
itself, and is of more value than a series of thought- 
fully composed garden pictures ? There are no doubt 



276 



HOME AND GARDEN 



many to whom, from want of a certain class of refine- 
ment of education or natural gift of teachable aptitude, 
are unable to understand or appreciate, at anything 
like its full value, a good garden picture, and to these 
no doubt a quantity of individual plants give a greater 
degree of pleasure than such as they could derive from 
the contemplation of any beautiful arrangement of a 
lesser number. When I see this in ordinary gardens, 
I try to put myself into the same mental attitude, and 
so far succeed, in that I can perceive that it represents 
one of the earlier stages in the love of a garden, and 
that one must not quarrel with it, because a garden is 
for its owners pleasure, and whatever the degree or 
form of that pleasure, if only it be sincere, it is right 
and reasonable, and adds to human happiness in one 
of the purest and best of ways. And often I find I 
have to put upon myself this kind of drag, because 
when one has passed through the more elementary 
stages which deal with isolated details, and has come 
to a point when one feels some slight power of what 
perhaps may be called generalship ; when the means 
and material that go to the making of a garden seem 
to be within one's grasp and awaiting one's command, 
then comes the danger of being inclined to lay down 
the law, and of advocating the ultimate effects that 
one feels oneself to be most desirable in an intolerant 
spirit of cock-sure pontification. So I try, when I am 
in a garden of the ordinary kind where the owner 
likes variety, to see it a little from the same point of 



THINGS WORTH DOING 277 

view ; and in the arboretum, where one of each of a 
hundred different kinds of Conifers stand in their fine 
young growth, to see and admire the individuals only, 
and to stifle my own longing to see a hundred of one 
sort at a time, and to keep down the shop-window 
feeling, and the idea of a worthless library made up 
of odd single volumes where there should be complete 
sets, and the comparison of an inconsequent jumble 
of words with a clearly-written sentence, and all such 
naughty similitudes, as come crowding through the 
brain of the garden-artist (if I may give myself a 
title so honourable), who desires not only to see the 
beautiful plants and trees, but to see them used in the 
best and largest and most worthy of ways. 

There is no spot of ground, however arid, bare, or 
ugly, that cannot be tamed into such a state as may 
give an impression of beauty and delight. It cannot 
always be done easily ; many things worth doing are 
not done easily ; but there is no place under natural 
conditions that cannot be graced with an adornment 
of suitable vegetation. 

More than once I have had pleasure in taking in 
hand some spot of ground where it was said " nothing 
would grow." On two occasions it was a heap of 
about fifty loads of sand wheeled out of the basement 
of a building, in one case placed under some Scotch 
Firs, in another under Oaks and Chestnuts. Both 
are now as well covered with thriving plants and 
shrubs as any other parts of the garden they are in, 



278 



HOME AND GARDEN 



clothed in the one case with Aucubas, hardy Ferns, 
Periwinkles, and Honesty, and in the other with 
Aucubas, Ferns, and the two grand Mulleins, Verbascum 
olympimm and V, jphlomoides. It should be remem- 
bered that the Aucuba is one of the few shrubs that 
enjoys shade. 

Throughout my life I have found that one of the 
things most worth doing was to cultivate the habit 
of close observation. Like all else, the more it is 
exercised the easier it becomes, till it is so much a 
part of oneself that one may observe almost critically 
and hardly be aware of it. A habit so acquired stands 
one in good stead in all garden matters, so that in 
an exhibition of flowers or in a botanic garden one 
can judge of the merits of a plant hitherto unknown 
to one, and at once see in what way it is good, and 
why, and how it differs fi'om those of the same class 
that one may have at home. 

And I know from my own case that the will and 
the power to observe does not depend on the posses- 
sion of keen sicrht. For I have sic^ht that is both 
painful and inadequate ; short sight of the severest 
kind, and always progressive (my natural focus is two 
inches) ; but the little I have I try to make the most 
of, and often find that I have observed things that 
have escaped strong and long-sighted people. 

As if by way of compensation I have very keen 
hearing, and when I hear a little rustling rush in the 



THINGS WORTH DOING 



279 



grass and heath, or in the dead leaves under the trees, 
I can tell whether it is snake or lizard, mouse or bird. 
Many birds I am aware of only by the sound of their 
flight. I can nearly always tell what trees I am near 
by the sound of the wind in then- leaves, though in 
the same tree it differs much from spring to autumn, 
as the leaves become of a harder and drier texture. 
The Birches have a small, quick, high-pitched sound , 
so like that of falling rain that I am often deceived 
into thinking it really is rain, when it is only then- 
own leaves hitting each other with a small rain- 
like patter. The voice of Oak leaves is also rather 
high-pitched, though lower than that of Birch. 
Chestnut leaves in a mild breeze sound much more 
deliberate ; a sort of slow slither. Nearly all trees 
in gentle wind have a pleasant sound, but I con- 
fess to a distinct dislike to the noise of all the 
Poplars ; feeling it to be painfully fussy, unrestfal, 
and disturbing. On the other hand, how soothing 
and delightful is the murmur of Scotch Firs both near 
and far. And what pleasant muffled music is that 
of a wind- waved field of corn, and especially of ripe 
barley. The giant Grasses, Reeds, and Bamboo sound 
curiously dry. The great Reed, Arundo Bonax, makes 
more noise in a moderate breeze than when the wind 
blows a gale, for then the long ribbon-like leaves are 
blown straight out and play much less against each 
other ; the Arabs say, " It whispers in the breeze and 
is silent in the storm." But of all the plants I know, 



280 HOME AND GARDEN 



the one whose foliage has the strangest sound is the 
Virginian Allspice (Cahjcanthus floridus), whose leaves 
are of so dry and harsh a quality that they seem to 
grate and clash as they come together. 

As for the matter of colour, what may be observed 
is simply without end. Those who have had no train- 
ing in the way to see colour nearly always deceive 
themselves into thinking that they see it as they know 
it is locally, whereas the trained eye sees colour in 
due relation and as it truly ajipears to he. I remember 
driving with a friend of more than ordinary in- 
telligence, who stoutly maintained that he saw the 
distant wooded hill quite as green as the near hedge. 
He knew it was green and could not see it otherwise, 
till I stopped at a place where a part of the face, but 
none of the sky-bounded edge of the wooded distance, 
showed through a tiny opening among the near green 
branches, when, to his immense surprise, he saw it 
was blue. A good way of showing the same thing 
is to tear a roundish hole in any large bright-green 
leaf, such as a Burdock, and to hold it at half-arm's 
length so that a part of a distant landscape is seen 
through the hole, and the eye sees also the whole 
surface of the leaf. As long as the sight takes in 
both, it will see the true relative colour of the dis- 
tance. I constantly do this myself, first looking at 
the distance without the leaf-frame in order to see 
how nearly I can guess the truth of the far colour. 
Even in the width of one ploughed field, especially 



THINGS WORTH DOING 281 



in autumn when the air is full of vapour, in the 
farther part of the field the newly- turned earth 
is bluish -purple, whereas it is a rich brown at 
one's feet. 

On some of those cold, cloudless days of March, 
when the sky is of a darker and more intensely blue 
colour than one may see at any other time of the 
year, and geese are grazing on the wide strips of green 
common, so frequent in my neighbourhood, I have 
often noticed how surprisingly blue is the north side 
of a white goose. If at three o'clock in the after- 
noon of such a day one stands facing north-west and 
also facing the goose, its side next one's right hand 
is bright blue and its other side is bright yellow, 
deepening to orange as the sun " westers " and sinks, 
and shows through a greater depth of moisture- laden 
atmosphere. 

Many years ago I had a wooden painting-room, 
for convenience of drawing and painting animals. 
I had always great pleasure in painting white horses 
(the pearly colouring about the head of a well-bred 
grey and the blue of his muzzle are something 
delicious), and as a kind neighbour had a stable full 
of greys of a well-known breed, I was never at a loss 
for a sitter. One day when old " Sampson," quite 
white with age, was dozing at his post, and I 
happened for some time not to be looking at my 
model, on again looking up I was amazed by the 
sight of a blue horse with a large orange spot on his 



282 HOME AND GARDEN 



flank. I never can forget the sudden shock of that 
strangely-coloured apparition. A knot had dropped 
out of one of the boards, and a round spot of warm 
afternoon sunlight came straight through on to the 
horse's white coat that was blue-lighted from the 
large north window. 

The way colour is applied in brilliant flowers is 
the subject of a never-ending and always delightful 
investigation. All painters know how difficult it is 
to get a brilliant colouring of clear, unmuddled 
scarlet. It can only be done, especially in water- 
colour, by running the scarlet over a preparation of 
clear strong yellow. This is exactly how nature 
gets over the same difficulty in flowers of that 
colour. 

It always seems to me that one of the things 
most worth doing about a garden is to try to make 
every part of it beautiful ; not the pleasure garden 
only, but some of the rougher accessories also, so 
that no place is unsightly. For the faggot-stack 
can be covered with Gourds or Vegetable Marrows, 
or quick growing rambling thmgs like the wild Bind- 
weed {Convolvulus), or the garden variety with still 
larger white bloom ; and the sides of the coke- 
enclosure, built of posts and upright oak slabbing, 
can have hardy Chrysanthemums below and a happy 
tangle of wild Clematis above ; and sheds that would 
be otherwise unbeautiful can be adorned with rampant 
Vine and Jasmine and the free-growing Clematises 



THINGS WORTH DOING 283 



and Virginia Creeper. For my own part, I wish I 
had more of such places in order to have a wider 
scope for such plantings ; while in other gardens I 
groan in spirit to see the many opportunities wasted, 
and unsightliness reigning supreme where there might 
be pictures of delightful beauty. And to get into 
the habit of considering and composing such arrange- 
ments, and to worry out the way of doing them, is 
by no means one of the least of the pleasures of a 
garden. 

All sorts of pleasant things may be done by 
training down shrubs like Laburnums ; I regret that 
I have no place to make a Laburnum hedge, planting 
them about three feet apart and arching them over 
one after the other and fastening the head of each 
to the arched back of the next. Often one can alter 
the place of a young tree a few feet by bending its 
head do^vn gradually till it touches the ground, and 
then pegging it underground till it roots and the old 
stem can be cut away. I am doing nearly the same 
thing to some young Scotch Firs (bad to transplant) 
that are a few feet too near a path. But in this case 
they will not be rooted at the heads, only gi-adually 
drawn down and the head fixed firmly to the ground 
or near it. In time it will rise and form a tree at 
that place, and the original stem, lying along the 
ground, will be so well covered with Heath and 
Bracken and Moss that in a few years no one would 
know where the root really was. I planted a few 



284 HOME AND GARDEN 



White Beam trees in the copse ; they were nursery 
trees, and though common native things, they had 
been gi*afted, after some law of nurseries that I fail 
to understand, upon stocks of Mountain Ash. After 
my standard White Beams had been growing a year 
or two there was a brush-like growth of Mountain 
Ash from the root. I therefore pulled down the 
heads, and by degrees brought them to the ground 
and pegged them, so as to have the White Beams 
growing clear of the stocks. When rooted, the old 
stem is cut clear away at both ends, and I have both 
trees separately rooted a few yards apart. Many good 
shrubs are easily propagated by layering, and all 
the free-growing Roses. Indeed, by repeated layering 
on the same side, I could make a Dundee Rambler 
walk from one end of the garden to the other ! 

No year passes that one does not observe some 
charmiDg combination of plants that one had not 
intentionally put together. Even though I am always 
trying to think of some such happy mixtures, others 
come of themselves. This year the best of these 
chances was a group of pale sulphur Hollyhock seen 
against Yews that were garlanded with Clematis flam- 
mula ; tender yellow and yellow- white and deepest 
green ; upright spire of Hollyhock, cloud-like mass 
of Clematis, low-toned sombre ground of solemn Yew. 
Another good mixture is that of Crinums, tall Cannas, 
and Funkia grandiflora. Others that I always delight 
in are of Rosemary and China Rose, and of China 



THINGS WORTH DOING 285 



Rose and Tree Ivy ; of Jerusalem Sage (Fhlomis) and 
Mullein ( Verhascum phlomoides) ; of London Pride and 
St. Bruno's Lily, as shown in the illustration at page 
75 ; of Gypsophila and Globe Thistle; of dark-flowered 
Honesty and the large, handsome variety of Megasea 
cordifolia. Then there are the many associations of 
bluish and grey-leaved plants, as of Lyme Grass and 
Lavender-Cotton and Catmint, and these also with 
Lavender and its dwarf dark variety and the pretty 
SisyrincJiiicm Bermudiana. All these, and the many 
others that will occur, are well worth looking out for 
and worth doing. 

In many matters it is only by study and observa- 
tion and comparison that one can arrive at such a 
judgment as may be safe to adopt in one's own prac- 
tice or to advise for the guidance of others, but as far 
as I have seen there are a great many cases in which 
a beautiful way of tree-planting is misused or mis- 
understood. In planting an avenue of trees as an 
approach to a dwelling, the question of due proportion 
would seem to be of the first importance. They 
are so very often planted much too near the roadway 
and much too close together, and the proportion 
most frequently forgotten or misjudged is that of 
length. A certain length will give the utmost dig- 
nity, and every yard in excess will tend to deteriora- 
tion and monotony. If an avenue is a mile long 
the trees should be set back two hundred yards from 
the road ; but for the truest beauty aud dignity, as 



286 HOME AND GARDEN 

far as I am able to judge, it had better be of no 
greater length than from four hundred to five hun- 
dred yards, with the trees set back quite fifty feet 
from the roadway. In many cases a second row of 
trees, showing through and behind the first, is much 
to be advised. 

I am using the word " avenue " in its usual 
English sense of an approach to a house bordered 
by trees planted in straight lines, not in the 
sense that I believe is usually accepted in Ireland, 
and perhaps Scotland, as an approach to a house 
only, and without any reference to trees. 

From what I have seen I should say that the 
noblest tree of all for avenue planting is the Elm ; 
the Common Elm first, and then the Wych Elm. 
Next the Beech, then the Lime and the Spanish 
Chestnut and the Hornbeam — a noble, large tree 
that by no means deserves the neglect it usually 
receives. 

Oaks are so much more suitable for informal 
planting that I should scarcely reckon them among 
avenue trees, neither should I favour Horse Chest- 
nuts, because, though they are noble trees, their 
drooping boughs hide too much of the bole, which 
I think should always be visible. But they are 
admirable in formal planting in large parks. The 
Spanish Chestnut has also much the same habit of 
growth, but it bears trimming up better than the 
Horse Chestnyt. 



THINGS WORTH DOING 287 



The shorter avenues of grand trees leading to 
houses have usually seemed to be the best because 
the whole thing can be seen at once, and forms one 
complete picture, just as there is always a pleasant 
Dutch-picture-Hke look about a short avenue of 
Pollards. 

The very long lengths of formal planting are 
only suitable for large parks that have palatial 
houses of a certain class. The fashion of planting 
trees in this way came from Holland with William 
III., and prevailed for many years. The examples 
that remain from those days have now acquired all 
the beauty of a more than mature overgrowth; and 
though this kind of tree-planting is by no means 
the most delight-giving, yet one cannot help re- 
gretting the destruction of the many fine examples 
that had no sooner attained to a splendid young 
maturity, than, in obedience to the rule of the next 
wave of fashion, they were ruthlessly swept away. 

In private roads, such as those through parks, 
one often sees a quite unnecessary mdth of road- 
way. Except in cases where it is cut in the side 
of a hill, there is no need for the road to be of 
greater width than suits a single carriage ; where 
two have to pass, there is no harm in having to 
drive over the edge of the grass ; indeed even in 
the case of uneven ground, if the Avay is levelled 
so as to include grass verges, it does equally well, 
and saves a large amount of expensive road -making. 



288 HOME AND GARDEN 



There is a distinctly pretentious and therefore vulgar 
look about an extremely wide roadway leading to a 
small private house ; it seems to come within the 
same classification as an avenue I was once told of, 
extending for a length of two miles, and planted 
with variegated Sycamore and Copper Beech placed 
alternately ! The idea of such a mixture, and of 
such a long-drawn weariness of direly-monotonous 
continuity, is like a nightmare ; I did not gather 
whether the thing was only in contemplation or had 
really been perpetrated, but can only hope that no 
such unhappy avenue is really in existence. 



CHAPTER XXIII 



LIFE IN THE HUT 

While my larger cottage was building I lived in the 
tiny one just across the laTO that had been built a 
couple of years before. And had I not been burdened 
"vvith the cumbersome accessories of many beloved 
industries, and with the wish to house and enjoy my 
books and pictures and my many " things," and to 
be able to have the joy of receiving friends under 
iny own roof, I should scarcely have wished to live 
elsewhere or in anything larger. 

The Hut is mostly ground-floor. There is one 
rather large room with a big window to the east, a 
room good to paint or work in, but for the time- 
being more or less filled with stored furniture. It 
has a handsome ingle-nook and the usual " down " 
hearth. When on winter evenings there is a great 
log-fire blazing, and hot elder-wine is ready for drink- 
Ing and nuts waiting to be cracked, and some good 
comrades are sitting, some on its inner fixed benches 
and some facing the fire's wide front, singing " Craigncz 
de tomber " or " Let's have a peal,'' or other familiar 
rounds and catches, it is a very cosy and cheerful 
place. Great oak beams stretch overhead, tying the 

2S0 m 



290 



HOME AND GARDEN 



walls ; and the double-curved braces above them help 
to stiffen the roof. This room has an outer door of 
its own leading to a few square yards of paved court 
that is bounded on two sides by the cottage, and on 
the other two by box-edged garden filled with Roses, 
Lavender, Pseonies, and many simple cottage flowers. 

The other and more usual entrance to the Hut 
is by a paved path through a short tunnel of Yew. 
The door opens into a square entrance with the 
lowest steps of the stairs in the further right-hand 
comer. There is space for a large oak cupboard in 
front against the stairs, an oak wardrobe against the 
right-hand wall, an eight-legged table with one flap 
down under the window that ranges with the door, 
a tall clock, and a large rush-seated arm-chair. A 
square of cocoa-matting is in the middle space, with 
the well-kept brick flooring showing all round. It 
looks well furnished without being crowded. Im- 
mediately to the left on entering is my Httle bed- 
room, next beyond it the sitting-room ; straight on 
is the kitchen. Upstairs are two bedrooms and a 
roomy landing, one room for my servant, the other 
stored with furniture and things in use. 

The floors downstairs are all of brick, the walls 
of unplastered brick white-washed. It is handy to 
have no plaster, as one sees at once where to knock 
in a nail to hang a picture. 

The outer walls are of nine-inch brickwork, coated 
with rough-cast ; all is sound and tight ; the little 



LIFE IN THE HUT 



291 



cottage does not let in a drop of wet. My bed 
stands on the brick floor, there without carpet, and 
is against two outer walls and under a part of the 
roof that has no room above. As I love to hear 
the sound of rain falling on a roof, here, when it 
comes at night, I can enjoy it to the full. I had 
never noticed before that the first drops of rain 
falling on dry tiles have a clear, musical, tinkling 
sound, changing to a duller note as the whole surface 
of the tile becomes wetted. Though the simple ways 
of living in the Hut may sound as if bordering on 
the ascetic, yet there was no feeling of hardship, 
and the whole way of life was evidently wholesome, 
for during the two years that I occupied the cottage 
I was never a day ill and only had one sHght 
cold. 

Before I had occasion to live there myself I 
had lent it to an old cottager friend, a woman of 
the true old country type now, alas, nearly extinct. 
In her day she had been a fine hard worker, but 
rheumatism and heart-trouble put a painful restriction 
on her ability to do the work that her brave old 
heart made her unwilling to give up. I had hoped 
when I wanted the cottage for my own use to be 
able to keep her there as my servant. Her beautiful 
cleanliness and ready cheerfulness, her bright, kindly, 
apple-cheeked face, her delicious old caps and plain 
dress of old-world pattern, were so exactly in keeping 
with the simple little cottage that I was unwilling 



292 HOME AND GAKDEN 



to let her go, but after a few weeks it became clear 
that her strength was not equal to keeping the house 
for both of us, and as her knowledge of cooking was 
less than rudimentary, I had to find for her a home 
in the village and for myself a more able-bodied 
helper. Dear old soul, what delicious, inconsequent, 
good-natured gossip she used to pour forth ; a little 
difficult to follow, because as a rule all nominatives 
were omitted ; and as I could not by intuition keep 
up with the discursive workings of her brain, nor at 
once grasp the identity indicated by " She," with a 
fling of the head or jerk of the thumb towards some 
distant farm ; and as the disjointed fragments of 
narrative ran into one another, or rather flowed out 
of one another in a constant flood of small digression, 
the end of the story left me much Avhere I was at the 
beginning. 

But I wish I could remember all the odd tricks 
of speech and local manner of wording. There was 
one story of a woman who met a toad coming down- 
stairs. The toad bit the woman in the arm — I 
could not bear to spoil the story by telling her that 
toads have no teeth : " And her arm got that bad 
— there — it ^cas bad, that it was ! She had to have 
it ofi*, she did ! " This wonderful story came up one 
day when I came in to tea and found a fine, hand- 
some toad sitting on the raised brick hearth. It is 
strange how the country folk still believe in the 
venom of toads. 



LIFE IN THE HUT 



293 



One day I found her groaning in the kitchen^ 
and asked what ailed her. " It's my rheumatics ; 
they do crucify me that crool ! " And then she 
told how she had often worked in the fields in wet 
weather, topping and tailing turnips and suchlike 
work, soaked through and through, and on one worst 
day of all in thin boots : " My thick ones was gone 
to be mended." 

Somebody belonging to her had been in the 
army, and my boots were blacked on the doorstep 
with a small old soldier's kit boot-brush. She had 
also picked up some military technicalities, for I 
remember one day when I sat down to dinner, and 
she had just finished setting the table by putting 
on the salt and mustard, that she smiled with an 
air of conscious satisfaction as of all duties happily 
completed, and said, " There ! now you've got all your 
acuterments." 

It is one of the perennial griefs of the garden 
that it cannot grow the White Lily. It is a lime 
and loam-loving plant ; yet one patch in the narrow 
border between the front of the Hut and the stone- 
paved path always does well. When the border was 
made I gave that end a good deep dressing of lime 
rubbish, both for the sake of the Lily and of its 
next neighbour, the Knaphill variety of Pyrus japonica. 
This grand form of an always good shrub cannot 
be too highly praised. The flowers are splendidly 
rich in colour ; they are so large, and the petals of 



294 HOME AND GARDEN 



such good substance, that I never see them without 
being reminded of those handsomest of red Camellias 
that are only half double, and whose petals stand 
up with a certain freedom that makes them so much 
more truly beautiful than those that have them 
laid flat and exactly evenly arranged. The rest of 
the little border has two China Roses, some Lady 
Fern and Musk, and next the door the sweet French 
Honeysuckle {Lonicera flexuosa). Just to the right of 
the short tunnel of Yew at the Hut entrance — the 
tunnel becomes hedge only, for daylight's sake, for 
the three yards nearest the door — is a Holly of rather 
upright shape some twenty feet high. Before the 
cottage was built I planted near its foot a Clematis 
montana and a Dundee Rambler Rose, and as they 
grew, trained them to run up through its branches. 
The Clematis went up quickest, and for two or three 
years made a fairly good show, but has not done very 
much since ; but the Rose now fills the top of the 
Holly, and the picture gives some idea of the way 
the flowery ends come tumbling out, though no 
representation in black and white can show the 
charming way that the tender, pink-tinged masses 
of the little Rose- clusters are seen upon their ground 
of the prickly shining Holly leaves and of the softer 
sombre Yew. 

Dear little Hut ! how sorry I was to leave it, even 
to go to the better house that I had long looked for- 
ward to as that most precious possession, a settled 




Entranck to the Hut. 



LIFE IN THE HUT 



295 



home for life. How I loved the small and simple 
ways of living, the happy absence of all complications, 
the possibility of living close down to nature — I know 
no better way of saying it — that seemed to leave one 
more freedom to think and to do ! Though it is now 
nearly bare, only sparely fitted with rough shelves 
and benches for seed-drying and other such uses, I 
often find myself thinking of it, furnished as it was 
when I was in it, especially my cosy Httle parlour and 
the pretty kitchen. 

How deliciously simple it all was, how small and 
few the bills — a pound a week paid the housekeep- 
ing. It was the same in everything. Even in a 
matter like the sweeping of chimneys : instead of 
having to call in a professional, a lad on a ladder with 
a bunch of Holly on the end of a rope and a stone in 
it, swept the chimney in good old country style in a 
few minutes. I have heard of old farmers doing it 
with a live duck ; but I hope never with a beautiful white 
Aylesbury ! And then the comforting conviction that 
drains could not possibly get out of order, for the good 
reason that there were no drains; at least no long 
hidden drains, only one short bit from the kitchen 
sink, open at both ends and easily raked with a long 
stick. 

If it were possible to simplify life to the utmost, 
how little one really wants ! And is it a blessing or a 
disadvantage to be so made that one mitst take keen 
interest in many matters ; that, seeing something that 



296 HOME AND GARDEN 



one's hand may do, one cannot resist doing or attempt- 
ing it, even though time be already overcrowded, and 
strength much reduced, and sight steadily failing ? 
Are the people happier who are content to drift com- 
fortably doTO the stream of life, to take things easily, 
not to want to take pains or give themselves trouble 
about what is not exactly necessary ? I know not 
which, as worldly wisdom, is the wiser ; I only know 
that to my o^vn mind and conscience pure idleness 
seems to me to be akin to folly, or even worse, and 
that in some form or other I must obey the Divine 
command : " Work while ye have the light." 



INDEX 



Acanthus, 33, 195 
Acorns, 32 
Adze, 3 

Agapanthus, 80 
Alchcmilla alpina, 104 
Aldershot, 199 . 
Allium, 251 
Althcea frutcx, 79 
Alyssum, 92, 198 
Amaryllis, 80 
Angelica, 249 

Annuals for autumn sowing, 204 
Anthemis, 211 

Anthericum liliastrum, 75, 80 

Arabis, 92, 198 

Architect, and builder, 13 

Arenaria balearica, 103 

Amebia, 100 

Aromatic plants, 194 

Artemisia, 94, 194 

Artichoke, 207, 247 

Arum, wild, 22, 45 ; leaves for 

cutting, 146 
Asphodel, 93 
Aspidistra, 150 
A triplex, 248 
Aubergine, 252 
Aubrietia, 92, 198 
Aucuba, 278 
Avenues of trees, 285 
Axe, 125 
Azalea, 189, 190 

Damboos as cut foliage, 135 
Bambusa Metake with Lilies, 85 



Beau, Broad, 243 ; flower of, 243 
Beeches, in lane-banks, 40 ; in- 
jured by Honeysuckle, 53 
Beet, 247, 248 
Begoiiia metallica, 149 
Bircli, 90 

Bog-Myrtle, 90, 92 
Book-room, 8 

Bowls, arranging flowers in, 136 
Bracken, 179, 231 
Bridges, old, 51 

Brier Roses, 7, 59 and onward ; 
Austrian, 63; Stanwell Per- 
petual, 64, 197 

Broom, 187 

Burdock, 29 

Cabbage, 236 

Calla, 80 

Caraway, 249 

Car da mine trifoliata, 98 

Cardoon, 247 

Carpenter, country, 9 

Carrot, 249 

Catmint {Nepeta), 196 
Cats, 255 ; tea-party, 266 
Ceanothus, 205 
Celery, 249 

Cenotaph of Sigismunda, 71 
Ccrastium tomentosum, 37, 93, 

106, 198 
Charlock, 240 
Chervil, 249 

Choisya ternata, 195, 205 
Cineraria maritima, 195 



298 



INDEX 



Cistus, 61, 78, 93, 181 
Clover, 242 ; scent of, 243 
CobcBU, 208 

Colour, in woodland in April, 
24, 25 ; scheme in AVall-flower 
garden, 37 ; of Briers in winter, 
65 ; arrangement in flower- 
border, 83 ; in large rock- 
planting, 94 ; of cut flowers 
in relation to rooms, 143, 144; 
of paint for garden tubs and 
seats, 212; of distant laud- 
scape, 280 ; of white geese* 
281 ; of white horse, 281 ; how 
applied in flowers, 282 

Combinations of plants, 284 

Composites, 245 

Conservatories, 149; ill-arranged, 
150 

Coiivallaria, 80 

Corchorus, 197 

Corydalis ccqmoides, 37, 101 

Cottagers, 48, 291 

Cottages, old, 45 ; pavements, 47 

Crinuniy 80 

Crnciferce, 240, 241 

Cuckoo-flower, double, 37, 102. 

way of increasing, 103 
Cultivation, deep in poor soil, 192 
Cupboards, 10 

Cut flowers, 128 ; preparing for 
packing, 128 and onward ; in 
varied aspects, 145 ; under 
artificial light, 145 

Dandelion as salad, 239, 245 ; 

culture, 246 
Daphne pojitica, 107 
Datura, 253 

Delphinium with Orange Lily, 83 
Dog's Mercury, 22, 28 
Dog-Violet, white, 101 
Donkey, old road-man's, 48 

Drya^, 98 

Dundee Rambler Rose, 294 



Eccremocurpus, 208 
Egg-plant, 252 
Elder, 69 
Electricity, 110 
Ely 7)1 lis (Lyme Grass), 194 
Embroidery materials, 11 
Endive, 245 
Eryngiums, 194, 250 
Eulalia, 195 
Everlasting Pea, 82, 213 

Fennel, 249, 250 

Ferns, Polypody, 44 ; Blechnum, 
44 ; Hart's-tongue as pot-plants, 
140; wUd, 224; Lady Fern, 
Royal Fern, 89, 97, 99 

Flowering Rush {Butomxis), 89 

Footpath to house, 6 

Fords, 51 

Foundry, 109 

Funkia grandijlora, 150 

Gallery, oak, 9 ; cupboards in, 
11 

Gardening for short tenancies, 199 

Garlic {Allium), 251 
Gate-post, game of, 263 
Gaultheria, 92, 97, 107, 197 
Geological planting, 92 
Ghost of a horse and cart, 6 
Gilding, 113 

Glasses for cut flowers, 148 
Glass-houses, their external ugli- 
ness, 153 
Glazed piissage-entrance, 161 
Good-King-Henry, 248 
Gorse, Spanish, 187 ; wild, 187 
Gourds, 206, 207, 253, 282 
Goutweed, 250 
Grass paths, 179 
Grouping of cut flowers, 141 
Guelder Rose, 78 

Haberlea, 98 
Half-hardy annuals, 69 



Hazel, old, 23 

Heaths, 60, 65, 89, 92, 94, 179, 
191 

Helianthemnvi, 78, 93, 183 
Helianthus, 210 
Hellebores, 68 

Heracleum (Cow- Parsnip), 250 
Herbaceous, a term often mis- 
used, 208 
Herbs, for flavouring, 254 
Herring- Lily, 82 
Hibiscus syraicnSy 79 
Hieraceumy 100 

Holly, 28 ; its affinity for Blcch- 

num 44, 90, ISO 
Honeysuckle, 52 and onward 
Hop, 208 
Horse-radish, 207 
House, how it was built, 1 ; how 

planned, 16 
Humming - bird Hawk - moth, 

sound of flight, 265 
Hut, the, 289 
Hutchinsia, 98 
Hydrangeas in tubs, 7 
Hyssop, 196 

Ilex, 180 

Internal house fittings, 2 
Jris stylosa^ 71 ; cristafa, 100 ; 
reticulata f 71 ; tuberosa, 71 ; 
oncocyclusy 71 ; pumila, olbien- 
sis, chanicBiris, Ciengialtiy al- 
bicans, Jiorentinay palliday 72 ; 
Jlavescens, variegata, amoena, 
neglecta, aphylla, sgualens, 73; 
Icevigatay sibiricay orientalis, 
lusitanica, pseud-acorus, fcdid- 
issinia, 74; in borders, 211 
Italian decoration, 114 

Japanese way of arranging 

flowers, 141 
Jerusalem Sage (Phlomis), 188 



INDEX 299 

Johnson's Gardener's Dictionary, 
204 

Juniper, 90, 180, 185 

Kale, 237 
Kalmia, 189, 191 
Kitchen-garden, 236 
Kitten as chaplain, 270 
Knaphill variety of Pyrns ja- 

ponica, 293 
Kohl-Rabi, 237 

Labels, ugliness of, 95, 96 ; hov/ 

to hide, 97 
Laburnum, 283 
Lathyrus grandijiorus, 47 
Latour-Marliac, Monsieur, 81 
Laurels, old, 30 
Lavender, 93, 184, 185, 206 
Lavender-Cotton, 94, 195 
Leguminosce, 242 
Lentils, 244 
Lettuce, 245 
LiliacccE, 79 

Lilies of France, 77 ; of Florence, 
of-tlie-Valley, St. Bruno's, 
Arum, African, Cape, Amazon, 
Belhidonna, 80 ; Water, Scarbor- 
ough, White Lily, 81; Tiger 
83 ; Auratum, 84 ; Orange Lily, 
82 

Linaria pallida; hepatcccefolia^ 
98 

Linncea, 89, 98 
London builder's work, 3 
London Pride, 76 
Lonicera fiexuosay 294 
Lycium, 197 
Lycopodium, 225 

Maize, way of rooting, 85 
Marsh plants, wild, 225 
Mdilotus, 242 
Menziezia, 89, 107 
Miall, Professor, 238 



300 



INDEX 



Midsummer, 67 
Monks' lihubarb, 129 
Mossy Saxifrage, 92, 99 
Mountain Ash, 90, 180, 284 
Mulching, 200 
Mulleins, 68, 69, 195, 278 
Mustard, 240 
MyrrhiSy 249 

Names of plants, 215 
Nasturtiums, 213 
Nightshade, 252 
Nymphaa alba, 80 

Oak, timber-work, 3 ; gallery, 9 ; 
table, 12 ; growth in lane-bank, 
40 ; summer shoots for cutting, 
148 ; beams in the Hut, 289 

Observation, 278, 285 

0>n2)halodes linifolia, 76 

Onion, 250 

Orangeries, 153 

Othonnopsis, 93, 100 

Packing flowers, 132, 133 

Pansy and Violet, 101 

Parsnip, 249 

Pea and Bean tribe, 242 

Periwinkles, 32, 33 

Phlomis, 93 

Phlox, 210 

Picking flowers in the hand, 136 
Pigot, 121 
Pinkieboy, 71, 257 
Planta Genista, 242 
Planting in long drifts, 92, 99 
Polygonum, 212 
Poor soils, plants for, 179 
Poppies, autumn sown, 204 
Porch, glazed, for plants, 160 
Potato, 251 

Pot-pourri, materials, 164 ; pre- 
paration, 165 and onward ; 



mixing, 170; old recipes, 172 

and onward 
Pottery, collection of, 119 
Prophet-flower {Arnehia), 100 
Purslane, 248 
Pussies, 255 

Pyrethrum uliginosum, 210 

Pyrola, 89 

Pyrus japonica, 293 

Rabbit-burrow, well-placed, 29 
Ptadish, 241 

Railway fern-garden, 230 
Rain after drought, 67 ; on foli- 
age, 68 
Ramondia, 88, 98, 104 
Rape, 240 

Rhododendron beds, Lilies in, 84 ; 

alpine, 97, 107, 189, 190 
Rhubarb, 208 
Road-man, the old, 48 
Roads in private ground, 287 ; in 

woodland, 49 
Roadway, old disused, 27 
Rock-garden, large, 88 ; small, 96 
Rock Pinks, 198 
Rock-rose, 183 
Rodgeria, 98 

Room decoration with flowers, 135 

Rosa rugosa, 64 

Rosemary, 93, 184, 206 

Roses and Lilies, 77 ; Rose of 
England, 77 ; of Sharon, 79 

Roses, different forms of ; climb- 
ing ; training down, 86 

Rubiis nutkanus, spectabilis, 189 

Rubus roscefolins, 140 

St. Bruno's Lily, 75 
Saxifraga aizoides, 88 ; peltata, 

98 ; mossy, 99 
Scarlet Runner Beans, 206, 243 
Scotch fir, in crumbling bank, 43 ; 

tracks among, 50, 275 
Scythe, 125 



INDEX 



301 



Sea Buckthorn, 90 

Sea Kale, 207, 241 

Shallot, 251 

Sitting-room, 7 

Skinnnia, 107 

Solanum, 252, 253 

Solda7iella, 88 

Sound of leaves, 279 

Sounds, of Iniilding, 18, 19 ; of 

wind in Scotch fir, 23 
Southernwood {Artemisia), 194 
Sower, 125 

Special gardens, 35, 59 

Speedwell, wild, 106 

Spinach, 248 

Spircctiy shrubby, 203 

Spores of ferus, 231 ; sowing 

them, 233 
Spruce fir plantation, 25, 26 
Stairs, 8 
Stobcea, 196 

Stratification in rock-work, 92 
Swedes, 237 
Sweet-brier, 65 
Sweet Cicely, 249 

Taraxacum, 246 

Tea Roses as cut flowers, 146 

Theatre, model, 111 

Things worth doing, 271 

Thistles, giant, 195 

Thorn-trees, 90 

Thrift, 106 

Tittlebat, 258 

Tomato, 251 

Tools, 116; their kinship, 122 
Tradition in building, 4, 46 
Tree-Lupin, 68, 93, 188 
Trees, in lane-banks, 39 and on- 



ward ; tree-felling, 125 ; sound 
of, 279 ; suitable for avenues, 
286 

Trenching, deep in poor soils, 192 
Tricntalis, 89 
Trillium, 91 
Turnip, 238 

Umhellifcrce, 250 

Variety, 275 

Vegetable Marrows, 207, 253 
Verhascum phlom oidcs, 68 
Veronica prostraf a ; satureioides, 
98 

Vilmorin, Messrs., 207 
Vinca major ; minor ; acutiflora, 
33 

Viola cucullata, 101 
Violets, 101 

Wall-flowers, 33 and onward ; 
alpine, 36 

Wall Pennywort, 89 

Water-cress, 241 

Water Plantain {Alisma), 89 

Weigela, 203 

White Beam tree, 284 

W^hortleberry, 92, 179 

Wild flowers for cutting, 134 

Windows, 8 ; window-boards, 8 

Winter gardens, 152 

Winter house-decoration of foli- 
age, 147 

Woodland in April, 20 and on- 
ward 
Wood-Sorrel, 26 
Workman, dexterity of, 18 
Workshop, 108 ; its lessons, 112 



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